


dreaming that the antidote is orgasm

by Zombiegravitation



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babies, Backstory, Bestiality, Canonical Character Death, Child Death, Cousin Incest, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Growing Up, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Infant Death, Infanticide, Lies, Magic, Medical Inaccuracies, Multi, Murder, Not Beta Read, POV Animal, Parent-Child Relationship, Platonic Relationships, Prophecy, R plus L equals J, Reincarnation, Robert's Rebellion, Shapeshifting, Suspension Of Disbelief, Tower of Joy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-08-22 05:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8275255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombiegravitation/pseuds/Zombiegravitation
Summary: "So I prayed to the gods, take him away. Make him die."No change of heart can force a god to undo an answered prayer. Jon dies and Ned mourns the loss of the last piece of his sister. The gods maybe be cruel but they haven't finished with Jon yet.Or the one where Jon's a direwolf until he's not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm surprised there wasn't more of this in this fandom...I'm going to hell but I'm sure I'll see you all there. It's a fusion of book and TV elements. There should be only one or two Dorne chapters, then a single King's Landing chapter after this and that's all I have written so far... This was supposed to be a simple PWP but nope I wanted plot after hearing Catelyn talking to Talisa, so here we go. Pay attention to the tags! This story will involve multiple occasions of wolf on human sex and the usual incest tag but not until later chapters. You can shame me later.

281

Tower of Joy

Ser Arthur Dayne fell from Howland's dagger with a slick sound, Ned could hear his gurgling breaths louder than his own pants. Howland looked at him expectantly, clutching his bloody gut. Ned couldn't stop staring, he was nearly frozen until Arthur dropped his sword. 

Ned quickly grabbed the sword, it's weight light and he moved easily when Arthur looked up at him. His heart stuttered as he looked at eyes similar to Ashara's but his body never hesitated. He gave the final blow, one of mercy and Arthur fell. Never before had Ned felt so honorless, it was cronnagmen way to use any means of advantage but it left Ned feeling sick.

Not that he had much chance to feel regret at the moment, for he heard a wail that would haunt him for years to come. Ned ran towards the tower, slowing after the second scream he thought - No it must have been the wind. He glanced back to see Howland wriggling out of his clothes, pressing his shirt to his wound. 

Howland waved him off, knowing whatever would happen in the tower was more important. Besides he would force himself to live, he had not finished his destiny yet, his death would not happen for many years ahead.

Ned rushed ahead, Dawn still raised in his hand, watching for any attacks. The tower was messy as if it's occupants had rushed around in a frenzy long before he arrived. He burst through the only shut door in the whole tower, startling two of the three women in the room.

One of the woman paled and wept at the sight of the bloody sword and whispered, "Dawn."

Ned ignored her, eyes only focused on the broken vision before him.

"Ned?" Her voice is a broken whisper, that only rushes Ned to hurry to her side. As he nears her bed, he takes in the blood sheets and the sweaty appearance of the bed's occupant. He left Dawn at the foot of the bed, instead one hand went to pet Lyanna's hair and the other grabbed her shaky bloody hand and he pressed a kiss to it.

"Lyanna." 

Oh his sweet little sister, so haggard and broken. Where was her strength? What had Rhaegar done to her?

"Is that you? Is that really you? You're not a dream?" Her words were a soft yet rapid babble, her fingers twitched in his hand as hope grew. 

"No, I'm not a dream. I'm here." He smiled weakly, allowing himself another caress. "Right here."

"I've missed you, big brother." Lyanna's eyes opened, watery with tears and clouded with fever. Her face blooming with a smile.

"I've missed you, too."

"I want to be brave."

"Shh. You are."

Ned knew every fiber of his being that Lyanna was brave, Lyanna was honorable, always fighting for those who needed it. He remembered Lyanna who took over responsibilities of the Lady of the House when she still a child. He remembered helping her into mismatched armor at the Harrenhal to defend their new Cronnag friend. He remembered the fearful yet flattered expression on her face when she accepted the winter roses from Rhaegar. He remembered her own screams against her father after her betrothal announcement, throwing their mother's memory into his face and claims of how she must be shamed to have a husband like him. 

He remembered Benjen's confession of helping Lyanna met in secret with Rhaegar for over a year, of helping her flee on their way to the Riverlands. Ned knew his own promises of Robert stopping his boozing and whoring had likely pushed an already strained Lyanna to what she thought was a better option. 

Lyanna was a wild wolf, had she been born male, she would have been much like Brandon and their father thought he could use her to further a Southern alliance. 

"I'm not." Lyanna whimpered, her twitching hand reminding him of the sticky blood still coating it. "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die." Ned assured her though it was futile. There was too much blood. He looked to the Dornish handmaiden standing by the bedside, the other seemingly distracted by something he couldn't see. "Get her some water."

"No, no water." Lyanna shook her head, trying to get her brother to listen. Oh for a second, how she wished he was more like her feverish dreams. She had confessed everything multiple times to delusions of Ned and Brandon and their father, only to have a burst of clarity and see Amira wiping her brow.

"Is there a maester?"

"Lis-Listen to me, Ned." With energy she didn't know she had or where it came from, Lyanna pulled her brother down and close to her face. Desperation leaked from every pore and she lowered her voice, "His name is Jaehaerys, you know who his father is. If Robert finds out, he'll kill him-" Lyanna rushed on ignoring her brother's attempt to interrupt. "You know he will. You have to protect him. Promise me." 

She could see the confusion on his face, she signaled her maids to bring her son close as she caressed her brother's face, trying to memorize every detail of it like she had with her son. She tried to summon visages of Benjen's face, tried to remember and wished he was here. She felt guilty for the confused haunted look on Ned's face and knew it would only echo on Benjen's. 

Lyanna weakly pushed Ned to face them. Amira still held Jaehaerys to her body, hesitating to give the babe to the man who killed their protectors. But Lyanna nodded and Ned shifted his body to hold the wrapped bundle.

"Promise me, Ned."

Amira stayed by their sides, ready to take the babe back as soon as possible. She could see her lady was already fading, tears going down all their faces. Even the little prince seemed to sense it as he started crying as well. Ned looked at at his sister then to the babe and back to her. He nodded his agreement but Lyanna's eyes had already closed her final whisper as a smile overcame her face,

"Promise me."


	2. Chapter 2

The room stays quiet save the quiet whimpers of Jaehaerys. Yue moves silently, packing what little they had left before leaving for water. She comes back with a heavy pail but a fearful face. She stands still unsure if she will be allowed to touch her lady.

"He will need a wet nurse." Amira said quietly, bring Ned's attention to her. "We have a goat but only goat's milk is not good for a babe so young. It will have to do until we find the boy a wet nurse."

"Yes, of course...do you know where we could...?" 

This man who so quickly struck down Sers Arthur, Orsell and Lord Commander Gerold, fumbled with womanly matters. It was almost amusing. 

"Kingsgrave is the closest castle but it is controlled by the Martells. I doubt they would be very welcoming to a Stark." She said rather coldly. "House Dayne in Starfall may welcome us, if we bring back their fallen son as well as Dawn, their ancestral blade. Last rumor we heard, the Lady Ashara was with child. She likely has a wet nurse, if not she could summon one."

Ned flinched, he still loved Lady Ashara despite marrying Catelyn to honor his father's promise. It still stung that she moved on rather quickly.

"Of course. Prepare yourselves for the journey...would there be a cart here?" He said eyeing his sister's corpse. 

"Yes, in the lower tower we've hidden a cart. Yue can care the boy and prepare your sister's body for travel. I will show you where the cart is before I prepare Ser Arthur's."

"And the others?"

"As much as I would wish to bring them back to their families, it would take to long. The stench would be unbearable. Burn them or bury them. That is your choice." She said quietly, Jaehaerys already asleep when she placed him in a woven sleep basket. She nodded to Yue to begin cleaning Lady Lyanna.

Ned followed the strange woman down the steps. She was quick, knowing exactly where to place her feet on the crumbling stone. Howland eyed her with distrust when she paused to look at the corpses of the fallen. Ned could practically hear him calling Ned a fool as he followed her out of sight. She led him along the wall towards what he had originally thought to be a rock formation on the ride here but turned out to be the remains of a second tower. The base still existed and stepping through the large entrance he saw the cart. It would be just large enough to carry the two dead bodies and both women. 

"And the horses?"

"Penned not far from here. If you listen carefully, you can hear them." 

And with that she left Ned, presumably to tend to Arthur Dayne's cooling corpse. 

Ned dropped to the ground, finally allowing himself to cry. He wept for for Lyanna, for his father, for his brother. Gods he wanted his mother right now. Though she had been gone for nearly two decades, he always took comfortable in her memory and right now he could use his mother's warmth.

What could he tell Benjen? I'm sorry? I failed? I let Lyanna die? He shoved his fist into his mouth, muffling his loud sobs. Lyanna, Lyanna, he should have been a better brother to her. How could he have left her alone to care for Benjen & the House while father trained Brandon and he was at the Eyrie? 

"She's gone, Ned. Mourn her when it's safe for you to do." 

Ned jumped, frantically scrubbing his face of tears. He turned to face the owner of the voice.

"Howland, I thought you were-"

"The scared girl helped stitch me up, she has a deft hand." Howland said coolly, distrust still evident in his voice. "Her friend says we shall travel further into Dorne."

"Y-yes." Ned grimaced at the crack in his voice. "I need a wet nurse for Jae- Jon the babe. Lyanna's babe. And she says it maybe the only friendly place here. And we'll be returning their blade and their fallen son to them."

Howland sighed. "Will you be needing help with that?" he said nodding towards the cart. "Or will you be fine?" 

"I can manage. Could you start making cairns for the fallen? If the maids are done with Lyanna and Arthur, they could help you."

"Aye. I should be well enough for that."

"Good, I'll be by soon after." Ned said feeling rather awkward for lying. Howland likely knew the truth about the babe's father but he would keep the name secret. It would be hard to keep him safe if he kept the Valyrian name. 

-

Back at the tower, Amira helped Yue redress the young girl in the blue gown she arrived in so long ago. Lyanna -clean of blood and gore- merely looked asleep, smiling softly as if she dreamt of good. Carefully they laid her in spare linen, folding her hands over the only two things she brought with her to the tower aside from clothes: a dried crown of blue roses and a slightly crumple miniature portrait of her family. Yue wrapped her quickly while Amira checked on the babe, only to see he was still sleeping.

"Poor child." Yue said quietly. "Doomed to the life of a bastard if the Lord keeps his promise and doesn't just kill him the moment we're gone."

"He'll keep his promise. He's hurt her enough, besides I doubt his Gods will look at him favorably if he abandoned his blood. And better the life of a bastard than a dead one."

"Ah yes, a life of scorn and belittlement. What a great one." She said bitterly. 

Amira then remembered Yue was a Northern bastard herself, she hadn't shared much of her life before she became a travelling healer and doula. What little she did share was not favorable.

"Will you go North with them?"

Yue blinked, she had forgotten they were free, that she didn't have to go North. She thought on it for a while before sighing. "Yes. Just to make sure he's healthy...perhaps I shall travel back from time to time. If it is the Gods will."

"The packs are already down. Ser Arthur needs to be washed and wrapped. Can you carry her down or will you need help?" Amira said eyeing the wrapped corpse. Lyanna wasn't very heavy and while Yue was stronger than she looked, Amira wasn't sure it was a solo task.

Unsurprisingly Yue was able to carry Lyanna on her own. Amira readied the cradleboard for Jaehaerys, the boy merely stirred as she strapped him in, carefully covering him with a light weight blanket so he didn't overheat or suffocate. She hefted the contraption onto herself, she took one last look around what had been her home for over a year and said farewell.

The injured man was busy. He had stripped the corpses of the weapons save Ser Arthur and was taking stones from the tower. It looked as if he were building something around them.

"If you have a free hand, I could use the help." 

Amira checked is Yue needed her help but the other woman was already undressing Arthur to wash him without trouble.

"What exactly are we doing?" 

"Cairns." 

She rolled her eyes at his gruff response, men could be ridiculous. She took note how he built the base for the first cairn before going off to get stones for the next one. The three worked in the quiet until Ned Stark finally arrived with the cart, the goat and the chickens. He tied the horses to a near by tree and helped hurry along the work. 

It was dark by the time they finished, Jaehaerys had woken twice. Once for soiling himself, the second for hunger. While the women cooked one of the chickens for dinner, the men talked on whether they should travel by night or wait till morning. The two women glanced at each other before Yue voiced their thoughts.

"It would be easier to travel during the latest part of the day and through the night. The heat can be unbearable during the day, the nights are only relatively cool."

"Then it's decided, after dinner we ride. Which one of you can drive horse?" Howland said, in a considerably better mood with food being readied. Of course he kept a care eye for tampering but he was slowly believing these two wouldn't hurt them. 

From what they shared, it was easy to believe they had no true loyalty to the Targaryens. Yue was Northern loyal herself, the bastard daughter of a minor house. Howland could guess who her father was from her dark hair, strong nose and stocky build. She found herself with Rhaegar's party back when they were traveling through the Riverlands. One of the knights had fallen ill and she traveled with them to care for him before long Rhaegar had given her gold to stay and travel with them to Dorne, never once revealing his intentions. 

Amira was a different story. She had signature Dornish features: lithe build, brown skin, dark hair and eyes. And just as obvious as her ethnicity was, it was obvious who she was loyal to. She had been of Princess Elia's handmaidens before Aerys forced her to return to Dorne, exchanging her for a new handmaiden from a better family. Rhaegar had found her and asked her to be Lyanna's companion. Only after Elia had written her did she agree. She would do anything for her people, no matter who they married. 

"So you mean, the former Princess supported the relationship?" Ned said confused, stopping his eating. 

"Elia wanted him happy, and he wanted more children. Lyanna was willing and Elia had hoped to gain a sister. She was very lonely. Aerys had isolated her from her home, Lady Ashara was the last to leave and he chose her handmaidens himself including Cersei Lannister for a short while." Amira started, pausing when she saw Jaehaerys start to fuss. She put down her meal and walked to the goat with a shallow bowl.

"She hoped Lyanna would be her friend at the very least. From what she wrote and what Lyanna had told us, they had a long talk back in Harrenhal after Lyanna tried to give her the roses." Yue continued for her. "The plan was to bring her back to the capital after she gave birth to his child. It only took two moon cycles after their wedding before she quickened with his child. The seed is strong."

"They married? When? There was no record of it..."

"Rhaegar had the Septon keep quiet with a promise of some sort, but they were married in the Godswoods in front of the heart tree and Elia herself was there. If you went to the Septon perhaps he would show you or perhaps he has already destroyed any evidence. By the time we reached the Tower of Joy, we heard tales of Lyanna's kidnapping and rape. No doubt he does not want to enrage the stag king by suggesting she willing married and fucked the dragon prince." Yue said rather bluntly.

She remembered the ceremony was a long and dull affair done in the dead of night, the Princess herself had been there with her two young ones. Yue had been the one to give Lyanna away closest thing to family if only by Northern blood. Rhaegar, Lyanna and Elia had circled each other, unsure of what to do until Rhaenys asked to play a game. The so called feast was food snuck from the kitchens, the little princeling had vomited on Lyanna. The night ended not with a bedding but with the three sharing an embrace with the children between them.

"They looked happy." She said real quiet. A chill settled within her as she realized even if Lyanna lived, she wouldn't have gotten that. Not the same way.

Jaehaerys wailed almost as if he was mourning his mother and his lost family too. His attention to his milk damp cloth abandoned. He squirmed in Amira's arms until Ned came over, not taking him but sang softly while she rocked the boy. It wasn't the best voice nor was it the best song but it seemed to sooth him.

"I'll take him. Go on, finish eating."

"Of course, Lord Stark." She answered, her arms feeling strangely empty once she passed Jaehaerys to him. How would she feel once they were parted for good?

-

Starfall

The journey had taken nearly a week of riding, and despite covering the cart during the day the smell of rot was strengthening. Hopefully with one less body, Ned could get something to cover up the stench until they were back in the North where the chill would keep the body from reeking. Even as he neared the gates of Starfall, he felt no fear. 

Ashara would open the gates if not for him or her brother's body, then her other brother Elric would for the sword. They all held their breaths as they waited for the guard to return. And return he did with Ashara on his heels.

"Ned," Ashara greeted him. Her violet eyes were sad but she still smiled. She had not changed much aside from a new softness to her face and figure. "Ser Alford says you have brought home my brother and our ancestral blade. For that House Dayne thanks you and welcomes you and your party to Starfall to rest until you begin your journey again."

"Thank you, Lady Ashara. It's much appreciated, perhaps we can discuss matters inside."

"Of course." Ashara signaled for two servants to take over the cart. "My Maester can take care of the bodies. I'm sure you want your dead to be preserved better for your journey."

"It's just Lyanna."

"Oh. Devan have some rooms prepared for our guests, their meals be brought to their rooms and find a wet nurse for the babe. One willing to travel to Winterfell. Yara, bring a meal and tea to my solar. It seems we have much to discuss." She was sharp with her orders.

"Ashara," Amira called softly, not wanting to disturb Jaehaerys' quiet mood. "If I may join you as well."

Ashara startled before agreeing and asking for two meals to be brought to her solar, smiling just a little wider at her friend. Almost automatically, she led Ned and Amira to her solar, making sure they kept quiet.

"And your brother?"

"He is with his wife, I'm afraid Soleil's pregnancy is much harder on her than the Maester thought. She might lose the babe despite her resting for most of its duration." She said grimly. "She may not make it either. I pray the Mother will be merciful and that the Stranger will not come so soon, not after we've lost so many. I do not think my brother could handle losing his first love." 

When she opened the door to her solar, she was relieved to see food sitting at the table. She ushered them in, telling the guard not to disturb her or any of the guests.

"What happened?" She shot straight to the heart of the matter. 

Ned looked guiltily before nodding to Amira to start the tale. Much of it Ned had already heard, so he took Jon out of his swaddle as she went on. It was only when she reached Ned's part did he speak.

"In King's Landing, I questioned Ser Barristan about Lyanna's kidnapping. I wasn't sure if he was involved in Rhaegar's plan to spirit her away of not, so I kept quiet about her willingly leaving. He admitted he didn't know where they had been but that only Rhaegar returned and didn't tell anyone about the special mission he had Ser Arthur, Ser Orsell and Lord Commander Gerold on. The only clues he could give were remembering Rhaegar riding from Dorne, that it couldn't have been far for he disappeared twice for a short while, and overhearing Rhaegar speak of a tower to Connington.

"Howland, a handful of my bannermen and I left King's Landing as soon as we could. No more than six accompanied us, Robert wasn't willing to spare men and my own men weren't willing to follow a rumor, though Howland assured me he would know and I didn't doubt him. Gods, Robert hadn't wanted me to go either, we left in the dead of night." He paused reaching one handed for water. "We found the tower eventually, we fought against each other after they refused to answer my questions... Howland dealt a crippling blow and I-I struck the final blow."

Ashara swallowed thickly, "Did he suffer?"

"I hoped not."

"Thank you for bringing him home." She offered a shaky smile but she didn't like his non-answer.

"There is no need. If he had won, I know he would have done the same." Ned sounded so sincere. And for a second she fell in love all over again.

"What happened in the tower?"

"Lyanna had given birth, there were complications and no maester around. Yue did her best but we were undersupplied for this." Amira interrupted. "She only held on for as long as she did for her babe and when she heard her brother's voice she stayed a little longer."

Ashara finally looked at the babe in Ned's arms. Her heart nearly shattered, he was perfect. Nearly all Stark, save the eye. The solemn eyes were entirely Valyrian in color. He looked so much like her girl, she felt tears slip. 

"He's Rhaegar's son isn't he?" She managed to croak.

"Yes," Ned would never deny her the truth. Ashara had been a close to his heart, he knew she would not tell. "His name is Jaehaerys but I have been calling him Jon. With such a grand Targaryen name, it would have been hard to hide him from Robert."

"What will you tell him?" Ashara said surprise coloring her tone. She had assumed he would admit it to be Lyanna's son and would ask for mercy for the child, for his and Lyanna's blood.

"I hadn't thought of it yet."

"The Dornish serving here already knew I was pregnant, and they know my babe was born still but I doubt word has reached King's Landing. Spread it far but have your other maid spread the rumor that honorable Eddard Stark returned from Dorne with his bastard. Never tell who the mother is, imply that the wet nurse or I are possible mothers. Confuse them."

"No! I will not dishonor you like that!" Ned shouted, startling Jon to tears. Amira was quick to take Jon, excusing herself to seek out the wet nurse only asking that she be told of the final decision.

"But you would risk his life for yours? Robert approved of the sack, I lost Elia and her children to the beast they call The Mountain. She was practically my sister Ned, if I could have done anything to prevent it, I would've. Even if it meant my honor or my life!" Her breathing was heavy and the tears had returned. 

All sense of propriety left him and he took her in his arms. Ned rocked her as he would have rocked his siblings, rubbing her arms and back breath stuttering when he felt smooth skin, he pressed kiss after kiss into her hair as she sobbed. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 

Neither knew who was apologizing for what. Perhaps they both were or perhaps neither spoke aloud just in their hearts and in their head. 

After a while of rocking and soft apologies, her sobs had softened to a quiet whimpering. Rather belatedly he offered her a handkerchief to clean her face. A spike of guilt shot through him when he saw it was the one Catelyn gave him. He may not know her very well but she was still his lady wife. Yet that didn't stop him from giving Ashara comfort.

"Do it, Ned. The people already believe my honor has been tarnished, I don't care what they think. I carried my child, a child I wanted. Let that not be in vain. Let them believe you took the child for its safety. A Northern babe with Stark looks would not live very happily in Dorne." Ashara smiled at him, it faltered at the uneasy on his face. She took a chance to press their cheeks together, shivering when she felt his stubble tickle her skin. He could feel every breath she took. "Please, Ned. If not for me then for Lyanna."

Ned froze he could still hear Lyanna's voice, "Promise me, Ned."

"I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very subtle. Again I took creative liberties regarding canon.


	3. Interlude: Ashara

Ashara slumped as she watched Ned and them ride away. She wished she voiced her desire, the one option that would have left her happy and Ned's honor intact. Instead she bit her tongue and kept quiet about everything knowing Ned would never leave Lyanna's boy, though she suspected Howland knew. That damn man always knew. 

"My lady, perhaps it is time for you to rest. You've done more than enough today. Any petitioners left will be asked to come back later." Devan said ushering her to her room. She waved him off swearing she would go to her room soon. Many of the servants looked concerned with her moods of the late. With good reason she supposed. 

Her babe dead.

Her goodsister fallen ill. 

Her favorite brother buried just three days ago.

How much more could she lose?

She took weary steps towards her room only to stop and stare. She saw her relief if she only turned left. Perhaps she should...

Ashara stepped closer and closer, entering the empty tower. There were no guards, most still patrolling the land or the castle and a handful accompanied Ned's party to the land borders. Her feet were silent as she made her way up the tower's many steps. The oval room above was simply decorated with maps and tapestries of the house sigil and for a second she was distracted by the potential she could change. 

But it all changed when she spotted one of the windows still opened. It was a rather tall window, tall and wide enough for a person to fall through. Ashara's feet took her closer, one hand gripped the window covering as she leaned out. The sight was dizzying yet it didn't stop her thoughts, she nearly took a step when a polite but disinterested voice called to her.

"I would not do that if I were you, Lady Dayne."

She turned around so fast, that she would have slipped out had a man not caught. A very familiar man in fact.

With a furrowed brow, Ashara spoke, "Varys? Jon? What are you doing here?"

"Come now Lady Dayne, we have much to discuss and too little time."

"Jon?"

"We must hurry milady. I do not think he will sleep for long."

"Sleep? Who is asleep?" Her voice rising with panic. And she froze as she heard a babe's wai right next to her. Pale as milk and quiet as a mouse Ashara asked, "Why do you have a babe with you?"

"That is what we need to discuss."

Early morning the servants tidying Palestorm Sword tower would notice the open window, one would tut over it and move to close it. The bright glow of something purple would make them pause before they would scream as they saw the broken body of what seemed to be Lady Ashara at the base of Palestorm Sword. With the sea already trying to claim her body, her knights scrambled to reach her before the tide rose.

One could not take a look at the corpse and confirm that it was or wasn't the lady. It was roughly the same size and weight of their lady but her face was so badly damaged by the rocks it was impossible to tell. And yet she wore the last clothing the servants had seen her in as well as the bracelets and jewellery that had been gifts from her family, save a single plain necklace and a ring. 

But the servants would not note it until they prepared her for burial later. They would assume they were lost to the sea. Elric, Allyria and Gerold Dayne were quiet with sadness as they buried the body of Ashara Dayne. The handmaiden called Amira stayed quiet for she knew the truth.

Elsewhere, Septa Lemore would adjust her habit before reaching for the pale haired babe, rocking him in time with the ship's movements and humming a Dornish lullaby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Ashara is Lemore theory despite there being evidence against it. I did change a few details around Ashara's mysterious death, according to canon she threw herself after Ned's visit in early 283 but that contradicts with another piece that says Ned went to her right after the tower of joy events yet still returned to Winterfell with Jon in late 282. Also her body was never found in canon were as this gives a more permanent outcome. Any other questions just comment.


	4. Chapter 4

Dorne

They rode out of Dorne quick as if beasts were on their heels. The only trouble they had was with Jon. The nurse maid, Wylla was struggling with him. Jon seemed to sense the loss of his favorite caretaker and while he didn't excessively cry or stop eating, he would not sleep as well as before. He stayed awake and would look at Wylla with sad eyes. It was rather unnerving. 

Jon would only be with Wylla for feedings otherwise he was in Ned's sling or Yue's cradleboard. Occasionally Howland would take him and talk to him in the old tongue. It unnerved Wylla. She had never left Dorne and was excited to see somewhere different but now she was really regretting her choice. She resolved to stay the first year only after hearing they would leave Lord Reed in the swamp lands. 

King's Landing

King's Landing though was exactly as she hear described: grand and beautiful yet reeked like shit. Gold encrusted shit was how Lady Dayne described it. Wylla had to agree, how it's occupants didn't notice was astounding for she doubted it smelled any better before the war.

They were received rather quickly but she supposed that's what happens when you have of of the rebellion's leaders and best friend to the new king. Not long ago she would have been in awe of the castle and it's décor but all she saw was wreckage of what was once the beauty of the Targaryen Dynasty. Portraits and tapestries were ripped by swords of simply torn down. Blood still stained the halls despite numerous pale servants scrubbing at the stone. Wylla herself turned white when she caught a glimpse of a painting of her princess torn and painted over into demonized version of her. 

The throne room was no better, it was only sheer will and Yue's arm keeping her from falling. Two very small blood stains -one barely bigger than the boy she carried- were in front of the throne. No one had successfully cleaned them, for every maid they sent would start crying. They may have not liked the Mad King and respected the young prince & his wife but the little ones had been doted on by the staff. 

To see the boy's father bow for this man was disheartening. Would the boy she nursed be another sacrifice to the stag king? Would this boy be killed and cloaked in Stark colors rather than Lannister?

Similar questions ran through Ned's mind. Would he be able to go through with his lies or would Robert see through his lies and know it was Lyanna's boy he held? Would Jon's blood join that of his older siblings? Kneeling at Robert's feet, he had a perfect view of the blood stains. 

He remembered the night they arrived to King's Landing. Aerys dead and everyone looked between him and Robert for what to do. There were people for him to be king despite his own wishes to just go home. It didn't matter in the end, Robert claimed the throne through blood tie relations.

When Ned asked where Princess Elia and her children were, a hush fell through the room. Jaime Lannister, the pale faced Kingslayer replied, "Dead."

"What?!" Ned managed at the same time Robert gleefully shouted,

"Bring them out!"

Three Lannister men came out with bodies wrapped in Lannister cloaks. Despite how small Elia was there didn't seem to be enough cloak to cover her mutilation. Nothing could stop the horror on his face, it only worsen when he saw how exuberant Robert became when they laid the children at his feet.

He was very tempted to lunge at Robert. He thought he was a better man than to cheer for the deaths of children. He reprimanded Robert, with a voice of a brittle and cold as ice, that this was not a joyous occasion. This was murder, for the young prince and princess were not more than babes, and that their assailants should be punished.

Robert had laughed, laughed as if it were no more than a boyish game. “I didn't kill them, Ned. Any man who did was only doing their duty to their king. Besides Ned," His face grew dark, "I see no babes, only dragonspawn.”

Ned had wanted to tear him apart of not with his hands then with his words. To reveal an obvious truth to Robert's blinded mind. 

She doesn't love you! 

She never loved you! 

She ran off with him because he was better than you!

But he didn't.

He was knocked out of his stupor by Robert's voice, "Rise my friend."

Robert's voice held a sliver of hope that Lyanna was merely hidden away, that she was scared of any remaining Targaryen beasts. Oh how he would like to reassure her that there were none left. Robert moved to embrace Ned but Ned raised his hand.

"Robert, we need to talk... privately."

"Where's Lyanna? Bring her out here! I would like to see my betrothe, Ned. These fools want me to marry some Lannister chit but I keep telling them I have Lyanna."

"That is what I need to-"

"If that beast raped her, it is no matter. It was not her fault. But I have freed her. The monster is dead and gone. She doesn't need to fe-"

"Lyanna is dead!" Ned roared.

Robert dropped the goblet he'd been drinking from. His choked noise the only true sound in the room. Ned looked away from Robert, instead focusing his eyes on Jon and Wylla.

"That is a cruel jest, Ned."

"It is no jest! I have her body with me. I am taking her home, I only came here to tell you of her passing."

"Let me see her."

Ned's head snapped back to face Robert, disbelief spread over his face. He shook his head.

"Let me see her, Ned." Robert growled. He turned to one of his Kingsguard. "Bring her to me."

"I refuse to let you parade around my sister's remains. She deserves rest, Robert. And she won't get it here, with you haunting her no better than a ghost. I'm taking her home." Ned said with a finality that left no room for argument.

"I'll go to her...please."

Too soft hearted, Lyanna always called him.

Ned sighed, "Come."

Robert ignored the cries of his council as well as petitioners to follow Ned out. Not even ten feet away from the throne, Robert asked, "Who's the woman? And the babe? Did Howland sire it?"

Ned didn't answer yet, just kept walking away from the prying eyes. He wasn't sure if he could lie with so many present. The cart was not far from the stables and he's sure Howland has charmed some girl to get him a meal while he guarded Lyanna's body.

"He's my blood Robert. I had to bring him home. Dorne is no place for him." 

"So I was right about Ashara." Robert said with a leer. Already the news of Lyanna's death was gone from his mind now that he had new gossip. "Or was that woman one of our camp followers? A lucky one it seems."

He didn't bother to keep his voice down. Wylla looked away blushing at his rude suggestion. She cringed when she realized that Lord Stark wasn't confirming or denying him. Yue had disappeared from her side the moment they left the throne room. With how loudly the king spoke, she knew there would be rumors before the day was out. She hoped they would only stay for the day and that they & the Northern bannermen would leave. 

Ned was right. Howland was eating and looking very relaxed but when anyone got too near, his dagger appeared from thin air. He would say no words, just glare at any who wanted a closer look. He guarded Lyanna's body like a new mother guarded her young. 

"Lord Reed." 

Ned frowned at the mocking tone that was barely concealed in Robert's voice. Thankfully Howland didn't respond with it...well he nodded which was better than Ned expected.

"Show him, Lyanna." 

Howland was smart enough not to fully uncover her, for Robert would've no doubt recognized the crown of flowers resting in her hands. Ned felt uneasy as he watched Robert nearly fondled her face.

"She shouldn't be buried in the cold. She deserves sun and clouds."

"She's _my_ sister. She should be with family. What she deserves is to be alive. To have her freedom to run through the Godswoods. To -" Ned choked, he nearly revealed the truth. "To be home."

"Stay, for my wedding at least. If I have to marry, at the very least I can have my brother at my side if I can't have her."

And he did for the Lannisters were ready for a wedding the very next day. Cersei Lannister looked more smug than lovestruck as she rose up the steps along with her father to where Robert and the Septon waited.

A sense of dread filled Ned as he watched Robert drape the stag cloak over Cersei's shoulders. While he doesn't wish it was Lyanna in her place, he does wish looking at her wouldn't fill him with unease. 

The very next morning they left, much to the despair of many hungover men. Ned could help his speed or the small smile on his face. 

He was going back to Benjen. 

To Winterfell.

Home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter I think. I struggled a bit while writing this chapter, I hate King's Landing as well as Robert. But I pushed through it so I could go to Winterfell! But then there's Catelyn in the next few and I think I'll struggle too. Meanwhile my cold returned and I was emotionally stressed by my three nephews for much of the day, so I couldn't post till now. Next chapter should be up by Tuesday at the latest. 
> 
> Every comment and kudos so far has given me energy, never expected this fic to get much attention. So I'm very grateful.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we go to Winterfell we're back tracking a bit for Catelyn's POV. It's just to get a feel of her and her thoughts but will be fast paced. Howland is tricky to write cause I want him playful yet cryptic but I don't think I got it right. Also I realized that I forgot to send word of Ashara's death to King's Landing in the last chapter, that will be ratified this chapter. Next chapter is still being written and centers around the first three years of Jon's life in Winterfell but the Jon interlude that comes after is nearly finished and I'm so excited.

Late 281

Riverrun

It'd been three months since she's given birth and Catelyn Stark is no less enamored with her son as she was the first time she held him. She cooed at her child, a sweet faced boy. Catelyn pressed wet kisses all along his face, enjoying the giggles he let out. There was pride at that fact alone, a son on her first try oh the Seven have blessed her and her marriage with this boon. 

But at the same time a coldness grips her heart. The son she loved was blessed with Tully looks: large sky blue eyes, fiery red hair and thin face. Still she would stare for hours trying to find a Stark feature but failed each time. Catelyn worried that he would never love their son as much if he didn't look Stark enough. She hoped seeing her Lord Husband again would make it easier for her to spot them. She had hoped that having a son that looked like him would soothe the pain of being forced to leave behind the woman he been courting. 

Catelyn remembered how worried she had been before the Battle of Trident only two months back. If they had lost, her handsome boy would've been no more. The Mad King would have burned them all, uncaring of what consequences his actions would have...much like his son. 

When Catelyn heard that Rhaegar Targaryen had stolen away her soon-to-be good sister, she had worried. 

Would the actions of one Southern prince have Lord Rickard Stark breaking his other Southern engagements?

She didn't know if he would or wouldn't have for he left for King's Landing instead of continuing toward the Riverrun for her wedding, taking Brandon along with him. She remembered falling when she heard the news of Brandon's death. It hadn't mattered that they only met a handful of times, he was to be her husband. She lost him before she could truly have him.

Lysa had appeared supportive and consoling in front of their father when in private she had been cruel; one could even say her sister was smug that Catelyn had lost the man she loved, just as Lysa lost her lover and her babe. Sadly Lysa still didn't realize the Petyr's feelings were false, her having the child would have done her no good. It was better that their father had done what he'd done.

The deaths of Lord Stark and his eldest didn't deter her father, Rickard Stark had promised Catelyn to be Lady of Winterfell. There were two more sons left, and as word reached them of rebellion, House Tully had already cast their stone, they were slighted against by the King when he took the life of Catelyn's betrothe. They would not be loyal to a man who killed his subjects. But her father also saw an opportunity in the form of a man desperate for more men and honorable enough to fulfill his father's promise no matter the cost. 

Eddard Stark, middle son and now Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

Catelyn hadn't even been involved in the discussions before her father told her of her new betrothal. She and her sister would be married off, she to the North and Lysa to the aged Lord of the Eeryie. It was for the best he said of Lysa's betrothal, only a man like Lord Arryn would not care of Lysa's past transgressions and that it would only prove she was fertile enough to carry the heirs he desperately needed. 

She had never seen Eddard Stark before, heard of him yes when Brandon visited, and now she was to marry him. Brandon would often say she was like his brother, she had been unsure if it had been compliment or not. She hoped it was truth for at least she assumed they would get along which was more than she could ask.

That day she wept much of the morning of her wedding while Lysa stared cold and dry eyed. Both were dressed in finery and escorted to the Godswoods for the ceremony. It left Catelyn with unease to be marrying here for she was devote to the Seven but she knew it had been Eddard's only request for their ceremony. Catelyn could not bear for him to hate her anymore that he already did, if she denied him this one thing.

Catelyn had been nervous the whole feast, they had barely talked despite attempts on both their parts, in truth the long sentence he said to her the whole time was his vows. She was dreading the bedding when it came. Her sister stayed quiet as men hurried to undress her and guide her away to the west wing while Catelyn fidgeted nervously next to her husband. She was grateful for his next words, and Catelyn truly believe that moment was the start of her love for him.

"There will be no bedding, I'd rather not anger the Gods by breaking one's jaw on my wedding night." He announced to the men hungrily eyeing her.

He had been, for lack of a better word, gentle with her. He kept asking if he hurt her or if such and such felt good. Eddard - Ned was good to her and for that she would be grateful, for she had heard her fair share of horror stories.

They only had that one night before he left, taking along all but fifty of her father's rebellion favoring bannermen. She did not know if it left her feeling more shamed or less. But the wedding had begun to mend the rift between the sisters, especially when neither woman's moon blood came.

Lysa had radiated with joy, convinced they both carried sons. How quickly Lysa had been dissuaded for the next month her blood moon did come. The maesters explained it was stress that had prevented it from passing it before or possibly so effect of the moon tea she'd taken not long before. 

It was as if all life left Lysa. She would not look at Catelyn or even be near her for nearly the whole pregnancy. The only time they were in the same room was to bear news of the rebellion from the maester, even that was a struggle. Catelyn desperately missed her sisters, they had been joined at the hip once long before Petyr had come in the picture and Catelyn has always thought nothing would tear that bond.

And nothing had tore it. 

It was more frayed than anything, only blood loyalty kept it together. Catelyn swears that if she hasn't been scared and desperately crying for her sister as she prepared to give birth, that the riff between them would've never healed. Lysa had held her hand and talked her through most of it. She kept reminding her it would only be one moment of pain for a lifetime of happiness. For that Catelyn let Lysa hold her babe first. She hadn't expected Lysa's reaction to be so severe as to burst into tears before passing him to Catelyn and running out of the room. After that Catelyn, well she hadn't avoided her sister but she had made excuses for Lysa not ever holding him. 

And now that the war had been won and Robert Baratheon has taken the throne she waited. She knew they would not come home instantly, for they likely still had to calm the remaining dissent. Only word from her father reassuring her, Ned was South dealing with the final remnants kept her sane. But still another month since Trident had gone and past, even some of her Father's bannermen had returned but her husband hadn't.

Then one day, it happened. A servant had burst into the room, out of breath but shame faced. He quickly bowed and addresses her.

"Lady Stark, your Lord father has arrived...as well as your husband."

Keeping a tight hold on her son, Catelyn let herself be escorted out to meet them. Whether they had been too slow or if Ned had only stopped to say his farewell to her father she did not know, for only her father waited with a strange mixture of angry and pity on his face as he gazed at her.

"Where is Ned?" Catelyn had asked, not the slightest bit embarrassed of her lack of greeting. Her father would not meet her gaze. Not fully. "He has not passed, a servant just said he arrived. Is he unwell?"

"He has gone ahead to prepare Winterfell for your arrival." Was all he said to her. Lysa greeted him and Lord Arryn cool, the anger in her gaze the only sign of her displeasure.

Anger burst through Catelyn, she had bore him a son! Was she not worthy enough? Was she inferior to the woman he should have married? Was that why he left her to be escorted by a squad of his men and not by the northern lord himself?

She attempted to hold her head up high, even though she was burning with anger, as she greeted Lord Arryn and all High Lords. She escorted them to the main hall where servants had already laid out food and ale. Catelyn was quick to excuse herself, using her son as an excuse.

It didn't stop the whispers though trailing after her.

"He didn't even see his wife?"

"... forwarded from King's Landing..."

"Dark wings, dark words is right..."

"...threw herself off a tower..."

"...such a shame...his first ...course he took it hard..."

“Lady Stark?”

It took Catelyn a second to realize it was her they were talking to. "Yes?"

"Lord Stark sent this for you before he left."

Catelyn juggled her son into one arm and took the letter in the other. What did he say here that he could not wait to tell her to her face?

Nothing. 

The letter had nothing but apologies and excuses for leaving her. Winterfell was not ready not for her or for their son. Benjen need him now. He needed to bury Lyanna soon. He had to settle in before he could send for her.

"Thank you." She said tightly, her face rather pinched as she made her own excuses.

-

The Neck

"You shouldn't have left without seeing her, without meeting your other son and showing her yours." Howland drawled as he cleaned his nails with his short knife. He sounded a bit amused towards the end as if he imagined some sort of jest occurring. "No doubt she'll be angered when she arrives but then again she is a Tully woman. Unlike the men, they can be quite like their sigil."

"Not with that flame hair." One of the men muttered but Ned overheard anyways. "Always crazy those ones."

Ned glowered, that was the new Lady of Winterfell. Catelyn was always meant to be Lady of Winterfell unlike him, he was only second son. He expected to marry or perhaps join the Night's Watch.

Lyanna says - said - his mind still stumbled on only using past tense. Lyanna said he was too boring and unadventurous in that regard, all until Ashara. Ned grimaced before he nudged his horse to ride faster after Howland.

Ashara. His love - no, no longer his love, he made sure of that when he took his vows - his friend was now dead. 

Why had she done it? 

Had she really been that hopeless?

He had thought her helping him, helping her goodsister would have occupied some of her time, would've dulled the ache until she let go. Instead she lies in the crypts in Dorne, never to see life with the sun she loved, doomed to darkness.

Howland had paused, he turned his horse to face Ned. "Her death is not your fault. The Gods gave her a new path, one she takes no shame in walking."

Ned frowned, in the way Howland spoke, he made it sound as if she still lived. But impossible, her brother Elric had been quite clear of her gruesome death in his scroll. "Let us hope she doesn't suffer in her new life, that the Gods will give her the child she longs for."

Howland's gaze flickered back to where Yue & Jon were riding comfortably. His words go unspoken but Ned understands, he always does with Howland.

"He's the last bit of Lyanna I have. I couldn't just let him go." Ned said lowly, he didn't want anyone to that Jon wasn't his son. 

"Even if he could have been happier in Dorne as her bastard? Her family would have welcomed him where as here in the rest of Westeros save the Neck, he'll be treated as badly as vermin by most. High Lord father or not, that is how your people treat bastards." Howland said bluntly. "You can still change your mind and give him to me. Jyana would not mind."

"No, Howland. I can't. I lost enough already."

"Let us pray the Gods won't allow you anymore misery my friend..." After a moment's hesitation, Howland continued, not wanting to burden Ned with anything more. It would work out. He looked ahead and sighed. "We shall part soon. The end of our path is near, and I can't be away from the cronnag any longer."

"Howland... Thank you. Without you I don't think I could have saved her. Who knows what would have happened if you haven't..."

"Been coward who prefers to sneak around and has no sense of honor?" Howland said in a teasing tone, but the hard edge in his voice still struck Ned. Many believe the Cronnag way of fighting was cowardly; sneaking around, fighting guerilla style, using poisons and daggers instead of one on one combat.

Ned shook his head, in doing so he spotted the familiar opening to the road again. They would part soon but he wanted to talk just a little bit more. He pulled aside, Howland following and gestured his men to move ahead as he said his good byes. Howland got off his horse and walked towards Yue. She stayed her horse and got off.

Howland was efficient in getting Jon out of his cradleboard, making sure the blanket Amira had made was firmly tucked around him. Ned didn't know what he said for he spoke in the Old Tongue but whatever it kept Jon from wailing at his absence. Howland strapped him back in, making sure Yue was steady on her horse before waving them off.

"I mean it, Howland. If any other man I brought had lived, they wouldn't have stepped in. I would be dead, Lyanna would still be dead and Jon, he might've died to. But that didn't happen, instead you did what you had to and save all our lives. I would never ask you to change who you are."

"Flatterer," Howland laughed before getting serious. "I don't regret what I've done for this war, I accepted the consequences that came with it. Have you?"

There was something about Howland's stare that made Ned feel smaller and younger than he truly was. But he refused to crumble under his gaze.

"I don't regret it either but I still won't tell Catelyn the truth. I don't -"

"Trust her? If course you don't, you didn't even know her a day before you married her for honor. Your honor bring your downfall one day." Howland said, shaking his head. "But why tell her it's yours? It'd be more believable if it was Brandon's, Gods know with his reputation he probably has one or two out there. 

"Or hells say it's Benjen's, say he was seduced by a maid trying to trap him. It'll keep him by your side when you truly need him. Remember Ned, the lone wolf dies but pack survives. Winter is coming old friend and I fear what will happen if you separate from those you trust."

Ned froze, he did not like the implications of Howland's words. They had won the war, surely the Gods were merciful enough to give them rest before hard times come again. Ned refused to respond to his last words.

"I won't taint a dead man's honor nor that of my younger brother. I should've done more for him, for all of them."

Howland sighed, he knew Ned would not listen right now, but he still tried to assure him. He returned onto his horse, reins in his hand before he looked at Ned again.

"And for the record, I wouldn't change you either...no matter what happens the Neck will always be here to support you."

-

Winterfell

Seeing the gates of Winterfell open was the sweetest sight Ned had seen in a long time. He and his men nearly bowled over there welcoming party when they rode. Ned hadn't hesitated in jumping off his horse to embrace the dark haired teen in from of him, ignoring the people dismounting around them and leading the horses to the stables.

"I missed you,” Benjen told him, embracing Ned back just tightly. “I never felt more alone than when you left. When the Night Brothers came asking for aid, I practically begged them to stay more than a night."

Ned wanted to tease his brother for his hero worship of the Night's Watch but at the moment he was focused on one thing. 

"Is the crypt ready for their coffins?"

Benjen nearly stumbled, "I - ah, yes. We've gotten them ready. The stone carvers are already working on Father's likeness."

"Tell them to begin on some for Brandon and Lyanna as well."

Benjen looked at his brother, despite his young age, his eyes had the same old feel that Howland's had. "Really? It's not traditional."

"He deserves to know his mother's likeness one day."

"He?" 

Ned had failed to inform Benjen of Jon's existence. He tried to keep it as much of a secret as possible so word didn't reach unwanted ears. 

"Come we must talk. Have Rodrick and any other able body help bring Lyanna's coffin as well the coffers contain Father and Brandon's remains to the crypt." Ned said as he turned to Yue, who already unseated herself to the horse. Jon, still in his cradleboard was just staring in wonder as snow fell on his face. She offer him to Ned, reminding him that Jon would be hungry in an hour's time. Ned took the babe, and offered Benjen a piece of paper. "And send this to the carvers, Howland designed Lyanna's statue himself."

"Is was she one of Brandon's? Is this his son?" Benjen hissed as he followed after Ned, whose quick strides led him to the Godswoods. Benjen couldn't stop looking back at the two women they had left behind, he could easily imagine Brandon seducing either woman. "Brother, please tell me."

They finally stopped at the foot of the heart tree. Ned turn to face Benjen, Jon unstrapped from his board and held out to him. Benjen was gentle and he cradled the babe, just looking at him he could tell he was a Stark just from expression alone.

"Just look at him and you'll know the truth."

Benjen gasped when he saw just what Ned meant. He had to really stare at the wide eyed boy to see just how deep a violet his eyes were. "You and Ashara?!"

"No! He's not hers. Look again."

This time Benjen took time to eye every feature but it was hard to discern features in a face so young and plump.

"I don't know. Save his eyes, he's all Stark." Benjen replied honestly. 

"He's Lyanna's boy. Her and Rhaegar's."

Benjen looked between Ned and the boy. "Who else knows?"

"You, Lyanna's two maids Yue & Amira and Howland are the only living ones who know. Ashara had helped stage this. Not even his wet nurse knows his true parentage." Ned said quietly, he stared at the weirwood tree as if it would give him all the answers. "I couldn't tell Jon Arryn or Robert of it, not after what they sanctioned. And I can't tell Catelyn, I barely know her. You're the only one I trust here."

"Why do you trust me? I failed you, I failed our family by letting her go!" Benjen cried, suddenly looking his age rather than the man he was forced to be during the war.

"I don't want to lose any more of my family. You were a child! You still are a child! No one could have stopped Lyanna from doing what she wanted, especially when she didn't want her only other option." Ned yelled back, his hands running through his hair. "She was scared and Rhaegar, that fucking man took advantage of her youth and desperation. I don't care if he met her over the year before the rebellion. She was desperate for a better option than Robert and Rhaegar, fucking Rhaegar came in like a knight in shining armor and took her. Do you really think she'd stay with him after hearing our Father and brother died? He isolated her in enemy territory, surrounded by his knights. She couldn't leave!" 

Benjen stood stunned, Ned never lost his temper not to this extent. That was Brandon's thing. Even the babe didn't expect it, while he didn't cry his face was twisted in discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I just wish... I want things as they were. But that won't happen and I'm accepting my punishment. I'm going to the Wall." Benjen whispered. "Perhaps not now, with the babes and your lady wife coming. But I am going Ned, you can't stop me."

Ned's body drooped in defeat. "It's all I can ask for."

"What is his name anyways?" Benjen said looking at the last piece of his sister.

"Jon. He'll be Jon Snow."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The struggle is real bruv when you have the second interlude finished and still need to write the chapter before it, tried something new by using snapshots of the most important bits of a few months rather than bore you with repetitive events. So the quality of this one might not be the best actually really rather clunky in some parts, but holy shit you guys are amazing this story has been live for such a short time and already has so many hits and kudos. Thank you so much. Other news I have two more stories in progress with rare pairs, and if you wanna see previews of the next chapters, other TBA works or have requests send them to my [writing blog](http://i-will-never-be-satisfied.tumblr.com/) which is still relatively new.

"Welcome home, Lady Stark." Ned said, moving to embrace Catelyn. He was careful to be gentle and not harm their son, who was in his mother's arms.

Catelyn looked around at Winterfell, it was exactly as she pictured, even with Brandon's vague descriptions. Everything was grey, even the bursts of foliage here and there were dulled versions of what she'd grown with. Not much seemed to grow around here, though she did spot a glass structure in the distance. Would this place leech her out as well? Was she doomed to stay trapped inside while her Winter children played outside without her?

"It's finally nice to see my husband again." Catelyn said with a tight smile. She was still mad at him, nearly a week passed since her father's return. Three days after he sent word to travel, that preparations were finished. She had to endure the rumors alone, clutching Robb to her whenever he wasn't with Lissa his wet nurse.

There was one rumor she hoped was false. One where Eddard had supposedly broken their vows with a Dornish woman. That he'd return from Dorne, not only with the body of his sister but a child as well.

It had to be false, everything she'd ever been told about Eddard revolved around his honor. It was just impossible.

Still, she listened to every word.

They whispered of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, deadliest of the seven knights of Aerys' Kingsguard, and of how their young lord had slain him in single combat. Few would say Howland Reed had helped but the others would scoff and say that Lord or not, the man was a coward.

And they talked of how afterward Ned had returned the remains of Ser Dayne and the ancestral sword back to Dayne's beautiful young sister. That she had was the one to welcome him into the castle called Starfall. 

Catelyn had only seen the Lady Ashara Dayne once at a banquet celebrating the birth of Viserys' birth and she remembers her beauty, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes. They were still girls then but even Catelyn could see how men's eyes would fall to Lady Dayne's form, how Ashara barely a year older than Cat had flirted unabashedly with them especially with the knight Selmy Barristan, Lysa had been jealous for much of the night for even Petyr's eyes would fall to Ashara. 

Yet years later it would be Ned who would capture the heart of Ashara Dayne. In fact she was the only woman Eddard had any interest in and had supposedly left pregnant. Perhaps they assumed they would've married soon and likely would have if it weren't for Catelyn and her father.

They say Lady Dayne begged him to let her keep their child. That Eddard said no. That he'd barely left Starfall when she threw herself off a tower, so consumed with grief.

She wanted to see for herself of the truth.

"My lord, if we may have a word in private..." Catelyn said pointedly. "I'm afraid I heard unsavory things concerning you as we rode to Winterfell."

Ned stepped back a few feet, nearly faltering in his steps. It was obvious he knew what she heard, it was all over his face. Catelyn knew now as she looked at him, that her husband was a poor liar and always would be.

(Oh, how wrong she was.)

"Follow me." He said, after telling a man who surely had to be the elusive Benjen Stark to take care of everything. The man had nodded and with ease ordered servants and soldiers alike to unload everything before moving to help. She wondered if they were those kind of people, the ones that while they had servants often worked along side them unlike in the South where the division was clear.

Catelyn adjusted her hold on Robb before walking after him, her steps hurried as she tried to match his stride. He didn't even seem to notice her struggle, too focused on what he would say.

He lead her to a corner room in what looked to be the family wing. What was behind the door? Why was it filling her with dread to be near it? Would she regret her marriage in the next moment?

Catelyn shook herself, taking a deep breath and steeling herself. She would accept what ever came. She was Lady of Winterfell now, if she can't handle this how would she survive?

She had not expected to enter a nursery, for a split second she fooled herself into thinking he'd brought her there just to show it. But then she heard a baby's gurgling and knew it wasn't Robb. Two women were already in the room, one was asleep in a nearby cot and the other was standing over a crib. She took a step closer, then another and another until she could look into the crib.

The babe lying in it couldn't be more than a few weeks old, so small and only slightly fidgety, very unlike Robb who could move and lift his head. The babe's looks were very familiar, she didn't have to search for the Stark features for he was only made up of them. Dark hair, dark sad eyes, thick brows and sharp nose.

A Stark child through and through, something no one could claim of her own son.

"Lord Stark, what is the meaning of this?" Catelyn said in a low voice.

"Jon. His name is Jon and he is mine."

Catelyn searched his face for a lie. She stiffened when she saw none. The rumors were true, he had broken her vows. What had she expected? That he would just turn loyal, loving and forget about the woman he'd been with the second he married Catelyn?

It seemed she was wrong.

Her mouth puckered as if she smelled something foul, she glared down at the babe in the crib. The dark hair woman who'd been standing - no, not standing - _guarding_ the babe shifted her body, her own eyes narrowing and Catelyn swore she saw her hand twitch for something. The woman's gaze flickered just for a second to Ned before she stopped, still not relaxing her stance. Catelyn knew she made herself enemy of what was likely her husband's mistress, not that she cared. All she wanted to know at the moment was why he thought it just for the whore to be living with them.

"Husband, I said I would like to converse in privacy." Catelyn said coolly, her voice as cold as winter winds. He nodded and they went back into the hall. This time he led her to a room further in, he ushered her in with little grace. He wasn't sure what her reaction would be.

"Lady, wh-"

"This is your son, your trueborn son." There was a strange emphasis in her voice over the words. "I bore him while you were at war and cared for him myself."

He looked down at his son, red hair and blue eyed, giving Ned a gummy smile.

"What is his name?"

"His name is Robert, after your boyhood friend and now our king. I've been calling him Robb, no doubt others will start naming their boys after him. He will always be important." She said quietly, tenderness blooming on her face, and she lifted Robb enough to nuzzle his cheek. 

Ned looked for permission to hold him, she did not hesitate in placing Robb in his arms.

"He is our son. Swear to me he will always be important." 

"Always. Children always are." Ned said as he looked down at his son. He didn't notice Catelyn's scowl when she realized he included his bastard.

-

Hours later, after Catelyn had retired from festivities; Ned had left as well, leaving his men to their food and drinks. He climbed the steps up to the nursery, he was quiet as he entered. Three women were asleep in the room along side the boys, but only one of them stirred.

"Come to see your sons, have you?"

"Yue...how have they been?"

"He loves his brother already. I hope that never changes."Yue said, rising to stand next to Ned and they both stared at the boys curled together. "I hope she doesn't poison him against Jon."

"She won't."

Yue caressed Jon, revealing in the soft feel of skin, he leaned against her touch. Sweet boy, so affectionate. She'd only been in Catelyn Stark's presence and already she knew Jon's life will be hard here in Winterfell. May the Gods bless him.

"For both your sakes, I hope not."

She left the room, not saying where she was going or if she would return. Ned took that chance to lift both boys into his arms, they squirmed before settling as he sat down in a rocking chair. Even as he rocked, neither wet nurse stirred. 

"Robb, you will grow to be a good man and with proper tutelage, you'll grow be a great lord. But none of that will matter if you are a terrible brother. How you treat your family is a reflection of how you treat your people, never mistreat Jon no matter what. He is our blood, you must care for those who have your blood. We are wolves, we are nothing without our pack." He said even though he knew Robb wouldn't understand or remember this talk. This talk was more to reassure himself. 

Jon looked up at him with sleepy eyes, as if asking if it was his turn next. Ned smiled, kissed Jon's forehead.

"Jon Snow, you should be a Stark," _A Targaryen, he should be Jaehaerys Targaryen,_ his mind whispered cruelly. "I loved your mother more than life itself. You will always have our love and the love of your family, nothing bad will happen to you, so long as I live."

282

**Month Two**

"Oh, sweetling," Yue cooed. Jon was fussing in her arms, somehow he knew she was leaving even though she avoided speaking of it around him. Jon was observant, she would give him that. He was often in tune with Robb's moods, he would cry with Robb even if he was feeling fine or he'd try to stay awake when Robb was. He understood she was leaving. It was a little strange, there weren't other babies who acted like that. At least not so young.

"I will be back. You won't notice my absence, not with Wylla and Eddard here." She promised, fingers brushing his hair into neatness, settling him back in his crib then she tucked the embroidered blanket around his waist. "See you have Amira's love here with you. Be sure to grow strong."

Yue left, not wanting to look back at the soon to be sobbing child. Wylla was standing out of the nursery, fidgeting as she waited for her orders.

"I won't ask you to love the boy, because it looks as if you already don't. But do not mistreat him, for I will know and what you do to him will be done to you tenfold." Yue's eyes bore deep into Wylla's eyes, Wylla flinched. She didn't understand what it was about this woman that turned her so cowardice. 

"I swear no harm will come to him. I will treat him like I've treated other babes." Wylla swore, lifting her clenched fist over her heart. Yet she knew in her heart it would not be the same. "But you will return won't you? Most mothers often -"

"I am not his mother." Yue said quietly. "She is dead. She no longer matters."

**Month Three**

It took her too long to work up the courage to ask who the bastard's mother was. By then Robb was attached to him, the bastard was giving everyone gummy smiles while her Robb started to wiggle and push himself up to be closer. No matter how many times she separated them they always ended up together or else they would both wail hard. It embarrassed Catelyn to see how easy Wylla calmed the bastard while both she and Lissa struggled calm Robb before giving up and allowing it.

When her husband came to bed that night, she was still awake, surprising him. Their interactions for the most part had been courteous, no doubt they would have been so if he hadn't brought it home but she thought by now he would have thawed. Especially since Ned came to her bed nearly every night, but not to bed her as it was in his rights to demand. He would lie next her just to sleep.

Catelyn liked it, she thought it was nice to be intimate without having him rut atop her like a beast. Sometimes she just thought he was lonely. She never let her mind think of anything else, to do so would hurt.

Catelyn pulled back the furs to make room for him. They spoke about Robb and the repairs to parts of the castle. When it seems he's ready to roll over and sleep Catelyn finally asks, “Is Ashara Dayne Jon’s mother? Or is it one of the others?”

Ned froze mid turn before slipping out of the bed, his grey eyes turning to flints and face looked like it was carved from ice. “What did you say?”

She repeated her questions, trying to keep her voice firm. 

“Where did you hear that name?” His voice so low and deadly, it came with the promise of something dark and forbidden.

“Ned, I only - “

“Where did you hear that name?” He snarled, and Catelyn startled at the uncharacteristic display of anger. Her grip tightened on the furs as she was reminded just how much like Brandon, Ned was. Unlike Brandon, Ned had never once raised his voice to her, whereas Brandon while drunk on mead had shook and yelled at her twice before.

“From no one and everyone." She said rather evasively. "On the ride here, some men talked of it - I do not know who, for everyone shared it. And then there are servants spread their gossip and take note of your closeness to - “

“Give me their names,” Ned barked as he climbed from bed, throwing his clothing on over his nightshirt with the speed and efficiency that spoke of a military background.

“It is late at night, they should not - “ Catelyn hurriedly, trying to protect her loyal servants.

“I will not ask you again, Catelyn.”

That voice again, her knuckles had to be white with how tight she held on. She had to obey, it was in her vows. Tears slipped as she force her voice to remain steady as she gave him the names. Laurel, one of her ladies and that of a kitchen maid who was all too eager to tell her everything she needed. He slammed her chamber door as he left, and it was only then she allowed herself to shakily exhale, drawing her knees up to her chest as tears rolled down her cheeks.

When Ned returned an hour later, body still tense with anger, but Catelyn met his gaze unwaveringly, refusing to be cowed again. He did not enter her chamber again; all he said was, “Do not ever say her name again within these walls, do you understand?”

Catelyn nodded, inside she was filled with revulsion. It seemed Ashara Dayne would always be more worthy and Catelyn wasn't even fit to speak her name. “Yes, my lord.”

"And never ask me about Jon,” Ned said, cold as ice. The tilt of his head had him glaring down at her. “He is my blood, and that is all you need to know."

He left her, presumably going to his own chambers and she was left alone. Catelyn still hadn't stopped shaking. She had grossly underestimated his reaction and how swiftly he acted. For from that day on she never heard the name Ashara Dayne spoken aloud, let alone any rumors concerning which of the two remaining options her husband had taken. His command had even made her hesitate to think it.

In the years to come, Ned would apologize for countless things - an unkind word here, a perceived slight there, a misspoken sentence, all things trivial compared to what she really wanted him to apologize for - but never once did he apologize for what happened that night.

It was almost as if, after sending away the maids, the night had not happened at all, but Catelyn could not forget it. She was reminded of it every time he caught Ned near one of _those_ women. She could not even escape to her dreams; for her mind would repeat the image of a man she didn't knkw, a man she was sure she would never wanted to know. She hoped she had not made a mistake with this marriage.

**Month Four**

"I want to discuss with what you plan to do with your bas—your naturalborn son.” Catelyn said, stumbling over her words. It would not do to insult her husband's progeny, that would not be the best basis for their marriage. She had made that mistake before by bringing up Ashara Dayne. She did not want to face that anger again.

“My plans?” Ned looked away from the boys asleep in their shared crib. He didn't like the way she was looking at Jon. It left him feeling cold burn, much like frostbite.

“Yes, there's a few holdfasts and houses we could foster him off at. Then again Dorne is quite accommodating to his kind. Or perhaps a Northern house, like the Karstarks or—” Catelyn said, with a gentle smile. It would be easy to convince him to do it, it would be better for their happiness.

“He will be staying with me.”

Catelyn’s smile fell. “I'm sorry? I- I don't understand...”

“Jon will stay here, grow alongside our son. He and Robb will be raised as brothers.”

Catelyn’s throat gained a lump as she struggled to formulate the words. “B-but, he's not trueborn! He's a stain on your honor! And what of Robb?"

“Robb is my oldest child. He will be my heir unless God forbid, something happens to both of us.” Ned tried to remain calm, he didn't want to fight with Catelyn nor did he want to wake the boys. Catelyn didn't have that issue.

“Exactly! What if your child intends hurt him?” Catelyn asked, the words spilling out before she could stop herself.

Ned’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“He is your son, not mine." She hissed, "If you raise him like a lord, you'll make him believe he has a right to this! And what happens to Robb? He'll become an obstacle."

“He's only a babe who can barely roll on his stomach, the worst he can do is drool on Robb. Robb's already attached to him, look," Ned gestured for her to look in the crib again. Robb had wiggled closer to Jon, one hand firmly fisted in Jon's blanket. "They already love each other, a love that will keep growing if they are raised as brothers. Or do you want me to send away every son we ever have?"

“That is different!” Catelyn protested hotly. She might've been able to over look his indiscretion, if he had kept it out of sight and not paraded him in front of her. But he was never from her sight, constantly clinging to her son. “That thing is nothing more than a bastard, he's not blood. He must go! He—!"

“He is my blood!” Ned shouted back, the declaration startling both babes into awareness and both began to wail. "It doesn't matter whether or not he has your blood, he is still a Stark!"

They both were taken back by the declaration, hearing him repeat his words from that night silenced her and for the longest time, neither of them said anything as they each grabbed a babe to settle.

“Nothing you say will change my decision. Do not test me on this, Catelyn.”

**Month Seven**

Ned was unsure of what to make of Wylla. Jon's nurse maid was far superior to Robb's in every way but there was a detachment from her care unlike Robb's. There were many differences that Ned did not like.

Lissa would coo and carry Robb everywhere whereas Wylla avoided touching Jon other than necessary. Wylla would occasionally sing to Jon but Lissa would always play with Robb. He never even noticed Wylla hold Jon just to hold him or press kiss upon him.

At first he thought it was just the age differences. He had already seen Robb do this or that at that age and Ned seemed to find himself disappointed when Jon didn't do it. Except he could do it.

When Yue was visiting, Jon was as cheerful and playful as Robb. He happily squealed and flailed whenever he saw Yue's face. He liked rolling on his belly and grinning at Ned when he walked into the nursery. He babbled with Robb, making lip smacking noises at each other. 

Then when Yue left, he was back to the sullen behavior around Wylla. He would stay cheerful around Ned and Robb. Ned had talked to Wylla many times, nearly begging her to show Jon affection and she said she would try or try to make excuses.

Ned understood missing home but this was why Ashara had wanted a nurse who would travel. Winterfell was a remote place, it was the polar opposite of Dorne. But it was no excuse for the lack of affection. 

He could not afford to let Wylla go so soon. Jon was not yet old enough to be weaned, Maester Luwin insisted he need to nurse for as long as possible after finally prying dome details from Ned about the birth. Ned doubted Lissa would offer to take on another babe, she would see it as a strike against her mistress.

For now Jon would have to endure, Ned headed to the Maester's Turret. He would send a raven to the last known location of Yue and ask her to return early.

**Month Ten**

"It's much colder than anything I've ever felt. I thought you were exaggerating when you gave me these clothes." Amira said with a sniffle. Even in the heavy winter clothes, Amira was still cold. But she wanted so see Jaehaerys - no, Jon - again and it was the only time she could be spared while the household went to see the Martells for the annual festival.

"And it's not even fully into winter." Yue said, amusement shining through her eyes. "It can get much worse. But the bright side, you'll get to see snow for the first time."

"I'm not a child, I'm not going to get excited over frozen water." Amira pouted. Though she really was excited, but she was a grown woman.

"It's more than frozen water, it's like a blanket that makes everything beautiful. Probably the only thing I really miss about living the North. You'll see."

And see she did, Yue was right. Snow was cold and soft, it hide unpleasant things from sight and added a quiet beauty to everything. Winterfell was covered in it, it look rather soothing with the blue and grey tones everywhere. 

"Should we go see Lord Stark first or can we go see him now?" Amira said looking very excited, she was nearly vibrating in her clothes with anticipation...or perhaps she was very cold.

"Let's get our horses to the stable before we do anything." 

"Right, I forgot." She said, looking sheepish. "Where do we...?"

"Stay close, the layout is rather large and confusing for new comers. If you ever get lost, remember we entered through the south gate which is near the smith. Our rooms are right over there," She said, first pointing to a building to their left where a man was working over something then across the yard to another building. A part of Yue was amused how open Amira could be, but then again they grew up very differently. 

"Got it." Amira said while she dismounted. She followed Yue into the stables, taking off their packs before handing off the reins. "Now can we go? You've seen him recently and you write letter but those are nothing compared to seeing him again in person. Is his hair still dark? Are his eyes more like his father's or have they changed?"

"You'll see him soon. But we'll never get anywhere if you don't keep your mouth shut. Ned is used to my visits, so we can go see him later...I'm sorry about the stares."

"Hmm?" Amira stopped looking at the scenery and focused on how the people of Winterfell stared. 

Surely they had seen a Dornish person before? A blush came over her face, she hadn't realized just how badly she stood out. She felt as if she was back in King's Landing, she could feel her body trying to bow under the weight of their stares. She shook herself, she would remain unbowed, unbent and unbroken. She may not be a Martell but their house words were something to live by, especially in places like this.

Yue was quickly to guide Amira to the Great Keep, past where their rooms were straight to the nearby nursery. She knocked on the door before entering. On the floor with Ned Stark were his sons, the red haired Robb and the dark curly haired Jon.

"Jae- Jon." Amira softly gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "Oh, look at you."

Jon looked at the new visitors and squealed. He scrambled away from his father and brother, off the fur pile. The second his hands touch cold stone, he began whining but it didn't deter him from crawling to her. He stood shakily, smacking his sticky hand on her leg.

Amira bent over and held him close, tears falling much faster.

"He's not afraid. He remembers me." She kept repeating as Jon looked at her curiously before pressing slobbery kisses on her cheeks and nose. Yue tapped Jon's shoulder and made a silly face. Jon laughed, rocking back and forth between both women but never truly leaving Amira's arms.

Robb seemed a little jealous of the attention, and growled like an animal. Jon turned away from Amira, a small scowl forming. He made his own unhappy whine, then gave a smacking kiss to Robb who quieted but clearly still wasn't happy.

"He's adorable." Amira said, sitting on the floor next to Ned. Her eyes were on Robb though. "Takes after his mother, doesn't he?"

"In looks, though I'm not sure who he takes in personality yet."

"We always hope they take the best traits." Amira said, sitting Jon down in front of her. Robb stumbled towards them on clumsy feet and the two started play again. She played with Jon's hair, watching the hair smooth then spring back to curls. "There are some who do take the worst in the best ways. Oberyn's oldest girl is a wild thing just like him."

"He's too much like his Father." Ned said quietly, eyes shifting from the boys to the still open door. Yue came in, closing the door behind her before leaning against it.

"How so?" Amira asked, waving him on.

"His eyes."

"Well, that's obvious."

"No, he means the emotions he shows." Yue said, exasperation evident in her voice. Anyone who looked at Jon and knew his true father would see it. 

"I know what he meant. Jon is his Father's son. He was a sad child as well, given how his father was to his lady mother. Such a terrible man." She spat, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "But Jon laughs more easily like his mother."

"That he does. He can be a cheerful child but it's difficult when Wylla doesn't dote on him and Cat, she doesn't like it when I'm near him." Ned said looking rather ashamed. "I try to split my time fairly but with so many duties I can't -"

"The fact that you try is enough." 

Though both women actually thought differently, trying is never enough. Amira wished she'd talked him into giving Jon to Ashara, now her lady was gone and Amira had no idea where she was or who she was with. Yue had thought it'd be a mercy send Jon away while he was still young. She's given him council on handful of his and Catelyn's arguments.

"It's nearly his birthday. Is there anything planned?"

"Are you planning on staying?"

"I can't. The Daynes will be back from the festival in two weeks time and I have to return by then. But would like to send gifts."

"I don't think that would be wise. People might get the wrong message." Ned said looking uneasy.

"I already have commissioned a pair of rolling horses for them. No favoritism, no one needs to know who sent them." Amira said with ease. "Honestly it's not different than when I get gifts for my nephews. He is family even if it's not through blood."

"It would be rude to not accept it. And Amira was rather poor at cards, she is still indebted to Lyanna. Take the horses as payment." Yue pointed out, though they all knew it was a thin excuse. 

Ned sighed, he knew when he was beat. Or rather he knew when to give up, for the two can needle their way in and put of things with no thought of time constraints. He stood, excusing himself.

"Oh, I almost forgot. May we visit the crypts tonight? Tonight is a holy night in Dorne, we remember the dead and honor their lives." Amira said with a fond smile. "She deserves to be honored, Ned."

"Of course, will you be needing anything?"

"Just a meal in our room, and the reassurance that no one will disturb us."

Ned nodded, leaving them alone.

"Is it always like this?"

"No."

"Fatherhood suits him."

"Such a shame it only extends to its fullest potential in private."

-

The moon was bright and heavy in the dark sky as the two women walked through the courtyard, their steps barely making a sound. The guards watched as these women practically ghosted over the land, both of them looking ethereal in their own way. The one leading looked like a warrior maid, her strong presence washing over them like a wave as she carried a sack over her shoulder. Her companion looked like a dryad in her flowy gold dress that glowed under moonlight, in her arms she carried something wrapped in furs. No man crossed their path, not only because of Lord Stark's order but rather they did not want to risk being cursed by the Gods if these women were their servants.

Yue walked further into the crypts, one hand firmly laced with Amira's the other holding a torch. The deeper they went, the more lit torches they passed, till eventually theirs was unnecessary. 

Lyanna's grave was exactly as Howland had drawn it. From what Yue had told her, Ned had gotten more skilled carvers who worked with marble to do Lyanna's. The statue was very much in Lyanna's likeness, it looked alive and waiting for someone to come. The [figure](http://66.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3o58pcsxI1qkww7to1_500.jpg) sat over the stone casket, hooded head tilted slightly to the side as if she were trying to listen better, and a wreath of roses in one hand while the other was stretched back almost inviting her mourner to sit with her.

Yue took off her fur lined cloak, settling it on the ground before she opened the sack and pulled everything out. Amira passed her Jon then began setting up the altar. First she lit a pair of white candles, then laid a pair of bowls on the stone casket: one full of salt, the other of sand. In the sand one, she stuck & lit a few sticks of incenses. Then she laid a few of Lyanna's favorite foods like honeyed fruit, dried meats and decorative breads, along with a cup of water. The last thing she presented to the altar was a crown of roses, a little wilted but still lovely. Amira laid them over Lyanna's head, making sure it didn't fall before sitting. 

In the cold air of the crypts, she felt very at home just looking at the altar, she leaned against the opposite wall and stared at her work. It wasn't as grand or elaborate as some found at home but it suited Lyanna. 

"Do you remember that day in the tower when we filled every cup, bowl and pot with water and hid them in up above in our chambers?" Yue starts them, revealing Jon's sleeping face as she did. Amira grinned she remembers that day well. "Lya had been so bored and so pregnant, we made it our mission to make her happy. That night we dumped water on all the guards when they were changing shifts, I never heard grown men scream like sheep."

"Remember how hard she laughed, it was worth the scolding Arthur have us later."

Yue snorted, "He never scolded you, he had a soft spot the size of King's Landing for you. I hardly call his soft whispers a scolding. Even Lyanna thought he'd leave the Kingsguard for you."

"You exaggerate, it was never about that. We only ever talked, he - he understood that I didn't want...well. He could have stayed a Kingsguard for a long time with how we were." Amira said flushing, it was impossible not to know each other's most intimate secrets after living in such closed quarters. "Do you remember when Lyanna got so mad at me for eating the last of jam, she snuck outside, right past the guards and got shit to sheep shift my bed?"

Yue laughed, wiping tears from her eyes, "Gods, she'd forgotten that she sleeps with us. The room reeked for days and we slept under the stars with the men hovering over us."

"Maahh." 

Both women startled, looking down at Jon who'd woken from their laughter. Yue shifted Jon so he could properly look at Lyanna's statue.

"Would you like to hear more about your mother, sweetling?"

**Year One Month Two**

Ned expected Jon to be fussy and a bit unmanageable once Wylla left but the boy was fine. More than fine really, while he was technically under the care of two maids now, Mikken's wife Dinah would check on Jon often taking over. Dinah was childless and often cared for other servants' children.

"Dee! Dee!" Jon shrieked from his spot on the floor. Dinah smiled at him. "Jon walk."

Dinah watched as Jon stood, he grinned and bounced but he had yet to take a step forward. He tried to take a step forward then another and on the third step he fell on his bum. 

"Oh, oh no, shh, shh, don't cry," Dinah murmured, gently wiping any tears that slipped and fully calmed him before he wailed. She tried not to overreact, whenever you overreact a child feeds off it in a poor way. "Come on, come on, I'm here." 

She got him to stand again, this time she had her arms hovering near him if he wanted support. But Jon didn't want to walk again, he sat right back down and Dinah clicked her tongue.

"You won't be carried forever, Jon. Don't you want to run and play with your brother?"

"Noo! Noo!" Jon whined, shaking his head vigorously. He didn't like being left behind. "Robb play! Jon play!"

"Would you like to try helping, Lord Stark?" Dinah asked, wondering why the Lord was in here when he should have been meeting with the men of the Night's Watch.

"I have a better idea." Ned said looking down at the letter delivered.

Less than three days later, the fruits of Ned's idea came. Ned, Dinah, Lissa, and even Catelyn were there with the boys in the Great Hall. The Great Hall had been cleared, the tables pushed back so there was more space for them. Robb was already running around, bored but Jon sat patiently at Dinah's foot.

"Why are we here, Ned? We got no notice of visitors."

"Hush, Cat. She'll be here soon."

No sooner than he'd spoken did the door open and in walked Yue followed by a few stable hands trailing her. She pointed to the spot in front of Ned and his group and they began dropping things off.

A chest, two carved horses, and a crate.

"I've brought gifts. For Jon's name day." She said with a faint smile. Robb and Jon's eyes both widen, Robb immediately tried to go for them but Catelyn grabbed him before he could.

"Welcome, now if you would excuse us." Catelyn said trying to hurry herself and Robb out.

"No need, I forgot Robb's name day too. These gifts are for him too." Yue smirked, liking how uncomfortable Catelyn looked when she heard Yue's words. 

"Please? Please? Please!" Robb begged his mother, tugging on her grip. "Mommy, stop! Arm hurts a lot!"

Cat flinched immediately letting him go. Robb rubbed his arm, he looked a little fearful of his mother. Ned looked taken aback, it was the last straw for Cat. She left the room, face burning.

"Go ahead, Robb." Ned nudged his son towards Yue.

Robb was a little shy, he'd been around the woman only a few time and she was kind but Mommy didn't like her. But Yue stayed still, neither coaxing nor stopping Robb, instead waiting for him to come close on his own. Robb did step forward and it seemed to clue Jon on what to do.

Jon crawled forward right next to Robb, when Robb stopped and turned to him.

"Jon," Robb said tugging on his brother's arm, forcing him to stand. "Walk."

Jon tilted his head and held on to Robb. 

"Walk!"

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Jon lets go.

He takes another step without Robb, then another and another untill he was standing in front of Yue. They all smiled, even Lissa. 

"Good job!" Yue cheered, clapping. 

Jon looked back at his father and giggled when he saw him smile. He copied Yue, falling down when he went off balance. He looked surprised but he didn't cry.

"Horses, a grey one for Robb and a white one for Jon." Yue said, patting the painted horse. They were both low enough to the ground so they could comfortably climb onto and sit on it. The details into not just by the carvers but by the painters was amazing. For Jon's, it was pure white even the mane and tail but it's eyes were a deep indigo much like his eyes. The saddle had blue & purple scale-like detailing and the bridle had a pair of blue roses. Robb's on the other hand was various shades of grey & black, the other detailing was made up of green or blue accents and red trouts.

Robb got on and started peddling himself around, Jon liked climbing up and pushed himself a foot before climbing off then repeating it all over again. 

"Ma, play. Jon, play!" Jon yelled, wiggling on his horse and waiting for her to push. Yue paled, she and Ned shared a look but went ahead.

"And the rest of the gifts?"

"Play! Play! Play!" Both boys yelled chasing each other. It was hard to believe that only that morning Jon was unwilling to walk by himself.

**Year One Month Five**

Jon rocked on his feet as he stared at the door. Father said Yue was coming that day. Jon was very bored and lonely, Robb was with his Mother visiting her family.

"Boo!"

Jon squeaked, jumping. He quickly turned around but found no one was there. 

"Hello?" He yelled with a tremble in his voice. 

"Hello!" 

Jon giggled, twitching and squirming under tickling hands.

"Ma! Stop." Jon whined, her hands stilled. It still made her uncomfortable when he called her Ma. How do you explain to a child that you're not his mother?

"Hello, Jon." Yue said, leaning and pressing their cheeks together. Her arms embraced him tight. She could feel Jon smiling against her cheek. "Are you happy to see me again?"

Jon nodded his head yes.

"What would you like to do?" Jon shrugged. "Can you show me your favorite place?"

Jon nodded, slipping out of Yue's arms and holding her hand.

"Dinah's bees." He said, stretching the final word. Yue snorted at how ridiculous he looked, but let him skip forward still chanting, "Bees, bees, bees!"

**Year One Month Nine**

The castle was bursting with activity as they prepared for Robb's second birthday. It was a much grander affair than his first for he would remember this one. As much as he liked giving his son this attention, he also dreaded the party. It was many things but most of all the fact Jon was unable to be part of it, made it impossible not to feel guilty.

Preparations left Ned busy for the week, he hadn't see Jon awake in days. He visited deep in the night, when Jon was asleep all alone, curled up with the stuff dragon Amira gave him. Ned frowned, noticing Robb wasn't in the room as well as the dried tears on Jon's cheeks. He didn't know why Jon was crying, he didn't know that Jon had been left alone by everyone, that he didn't see anyone besides a servant who brought him food for the past few days. That he felt so lonely now that Dinah was dead and Yue had yet to return from her latest excursion.

Guilt coursed through him, he was failing Lyanna. He promised to himself that he would set aside time tomorrow for Jon and tell Cat that Jon would be allowed to be at Robb's party. 

He saw Robb more often, Ned and Cat would ask for his opinion in everything. But Ned hadn't realized that Robb wasn't seeing Jon either, but it became apparent as Ned overheard Cat and Robb's conversation.

"Mother, I wanna see Jon. Can I go play?"

"Go play with the visiting children, you see him all the time. You need to be a good host."

Robb scowled, stomping past his father. He wanted to play with Jon, Mother caught him every time he tried to sneak off to see Jon. She kept saying he had to be a good boy and play with everyone else, but why couldn't Jon be there too? The other kids were older than him and treated him like a baby. He wasn't a baby.

Ned wasn't happy either, and that showed on his face as he entered the room. Cat stiffened, realizing he knew.

"You will stop this, Cat. I've told you before, Jon is just as much my blood as Robb is. You can't stop them from being together, they're brothers. I won't allow you to treat him as anything lesser." Ned said, looking very disappointed in her.

"I tolerate his presence every day, this day should be Robb's excitement, not a humiliation. No one will focus on him if they're too busy staring at the bastard child next to him."

"I will concede Jon can't be at the party, but you will no longer stop him from seeing his brother Cat. If I hear you've separated them again, I will send you back to the Riverlands for you to reflect on your behavior. I will not bring you back until you improve." Ned stated, he would not be swayed. He's allowed Cat's mistreatment far too long. He'd rather not threaten her with temporary exile but he sees no other choice.

Catelyn looked down at her hands, curling them into fists. She would not let herself be separated from her son all because she hated her husband's bastard. 

"I will stop."

**Year Two**

Amira fiddled with the chain, twirling the wolf token between her fingers. Obsidian, somewhat rare now as the only two places near Westeros are Dragonstone which taken over by Baratheons and Old Valryia taken over by greyscale victims, she didn't know which was worse. A very beautiful stone, most people don't see it's beauty anymore. Not when it's associated with the Mad King.

She remembered how she got this piece, so many years ago when they were all still children. She, Elia and Ashara ran through the halls of Dragonstone, their laughter the only joyous sound in the castle. That all changed when Elia started coughing, she slipped, scraping her knee and knocking into a stand. 

All three girls froze as they watched it fall and shatter. What was once been a dragonglass skull was now in various sized pieces. Instinctively Amira had picked up and shoved Elia towards Ashara. Amira already started gathering pieces onto her apron.

"Go, I'll deal with this."

"But," Elia started, Ashara grabbed her hand and hid just in time for Prince Rhaegar and one of his guards stepped through the room. Amira had been so scared as Rhaegar looked between her and the pieces. 

In an instant, he was at her side, picking up with her but as if the world was against them, King Aerys had come in with Elia's father and their entourage. Rhaegar stood, no fear on his face and stepping forward to guard Amira.

"I broke it. She's dealing with the mess." He said before his father could speak.

"I'll deal with you later." Aerys sneered, walking away.

"Thank you, my prince." Amira said, once she was sure his father was gone.

"No need, I know who truly broke it." Rhaegar said with a small smile.

Amira had kept this piece as a momento, no one had noticed it was missing and now she used it for something better.

The closest thing to Rhaegar she could actually give Jon. One day she would give him something better.

A name and a brother.

283

**Year Two Month Four**

"Oh, look at how you've grown. You look so much like your lady mother." Yue laughed embracing Jon. It'd nearly been three months since she last saw. She tipped his chin up to take a look at his eyes. She could see his Father's eyes staring right back at her. "But you have your Father's sadness, my sad eyed sweetling."

Jon frowned, he knew Father looked sad but that didn't mean he was. 

"But Father laughs and smiles. He's not sad." Jon said, still confused.

Yue's mouth twitched, part of her - likely the part already buried under a few cups of wine -wanted to cry and the other part was still aware enough to keep her trap shut. She knew she should've waited till morning to see Jon but he'd been so eager to see her and she doubted he was getting much affection.

She took another gulp of wine. She looked down at it after she swallowed, maybe she should stop.

"Hush now, don't look at me with those solem eyes, it makes me sad to see you like this. You should be happy Jon, you should have a Mother and Father who love you. Instead you're relying on me for that, you life could've been so much better but it's not and I hate seeing you like this. With eyes that say you're done with the world before you've even started."

Jon looked at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. He didn't understand. He wasn't sad, yes he wanted a Mother of his own and for Father to love him like he loved Robb but he wasn't sad. Jon was about to open his mouth to say so when he saw how pale she looked.

"Ma?"

"Gods, forgive I did not mean to. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Yue whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. She dropped her wine, ignored the spill as she took Jon into her arms. She carded her fingers through his hair and rocked to & fro. "I'm so sorry, Jon. I'm a foolish woman. Not all words I say are truth, but my next ones are. You are loved, Jon Snow. Never doubt that. Those who do, they know nothing." 

Jon could smell the bittersweet scent of the wine on her breath, he didn't like the smell but still she was sad. He pressed against her as much as he could. Warmth filled his body as he thought on her words.

**Year Two Month Ten**

Pain.

All Jon Snow knew at the moment was pain. His skin itched so much with all the red bumps covering it, his body burned to the touch. It hurt breathing for every time he took a breath, he let it out in coughs that left a bloody taste in his mouth.

"Ma! Ama!" Jon croaked, tears streaming down his face as he tried to reach for people who weren't there. Maester Luwin looked down at the boy sadly, the fourth day and the red spotting had only increased; not a single oatmeal bath eased it, he started coughing last night and hadn't stopped. 

"I'm here, sweetling. Ma's here. She'll make everything better." Yue cried, rushing in, her pack bulging in a way it hadn't before. "I can take over, Maester. I just need to know who got sick first and if they're better."

"Few of the boys from Winter Town were sick and I offered my services but it didn't reach the castle until two weeks ago. Robb was sick for the past week but he's all better."

"Did you clean your tools? Burn your robes before visiting others?" She asked, as she dumped the dirty water into one of the chamber pots and refilled it with fresh & clean water. She grabbed her pack and took out many things: clean cloths, her mortar and pestle, a few different pots, bags upon bags of herbs, a pot of honey, many other things Maester Luwin's never seen and a standard medical kit all onto the changing table.

"Yes, I made sure so it wouldn't spread. I don't know how it got spread to the castle. But Jon is the only one to get this bad."

"I'll take care of him. Just go find the source and make sure any maid who comes with meals has had the disease befoee. They can't get infected twice, keep this wing clear of people and it won't spread any further." She ordered as she stripped Jon down to his small clothes.

She took a good look at his body, lifting him up to see his back and cringing at the sight of pus leaking from a few bumps. Maester Luwin took his own look and offered to get fresh water delivered here. She gladly accepted his offer.

Yue wiped Jon's face of sweat, and began checking more than just his appearance. He was overheating, his throat felt swollen and his breathing sounded rough. She pressed her horn against his chest and listened, his breathing sound wet and wheezy.

"Ma?"

"I'm here. You'll be fine."

She left his side to sort through her herbs, neem was her usual treatment for pox but Jon was much too young for the strong oils. Jasmine tea would soothe him and paired with an oatmeal bath, it'd eased the itching. But until more water was brought, she had to use honey.

Honey would ease the redness and itching, there wouldn't be as many scars if he survived... She shook herself, he would survive. She would make sure of it.

For the next few days she was all alone in caring for Jon. She was running low on jasmine and was now going through the ginger. Jon's breathing had gotten better with the more tea he drank but then it got worse. She tried other concoctions, each more foul tasting than the last and each improving him for a time before he starts vomiting. She stopped instead just leaving him with water.

What was worse his fever hadn't dropped. Every time he opened his eyes, they were glassy and unfocused. He didn't register her much.

Not even when she tried waking him up from his nightmares. Yue felt helpless, if Maester Luwin couldn't help Jon and her own treatments were working either. And now his mind won't leave him alone.

"Fire! Dragons!" Jon sobbed, trying to get up from his bed. Yue tried to keep him down, the pus filled bumps reopening and leaking as he weakly flailed about. "Ma! Ma! Help!"

"I'm so sorry," She whispered, being firm as she kept him down with on hand and took the vial of Essence of Nightshade. Just a few drops so he'd sleep with no dreams. Just for a night.

Jon calmed down slowly after that, she cleaned her hands quickly and pet his hair, murmuring sweet tales to soothe him even further. She felt so guilty for using Nightshade but what else could she do. Once he was asleep, she pulled away and cleaned what she could. A knock sounded through the room, a quick glance at Jon, checking if he was still sleeping before opening the door.

"Ned."

"How is he?" Ned asked, he looked how she felt - haggard. She waved him in, not wanting to chance it.

"He's gotten worse. His coughing got better for now. But his fevers worse, he hasn't been fully lucid in days. He's having nightmares; sometimes he screams about fire and dragons, other times he sees wolves stepping over roses. Sometimes he doesn't say any at all, it's just whimpering.

"I don't know what else I can do, Ned. He's dying and I can't fix it." Yue cried, looking down at her hands in shame. She's helped birthed many children, helped mothers through birth fever, nursed kids back to health but she couldn't heal the Starks. She failed Lyanna and now she was failing her son. "He's going die."

Yue felt a hand briefly rest on her shoulder.

"We've found out how the boys got sick." He said staring at Jon. Jon have a slight whimper, and she saw instantly cooing and stroking his face. "One of the stable boys had gone to the brothel in Winter Town, a whore's child was sick with the pox and he carried it back to the castle unknowingly. The boys always liked going to the stables to see the horses." 

He felt like a failure for not knowing who was sick under his jurisdiction, he could've sent the maester. Then - then Jon and Robb wouldn't have gotten sick. 

"What happened to the child?"

"Dead."

"I need to pray." Yue croaked, the hope being leeched from her body with each word. "Could you...?"

"I can stay."

"Thank you."

Yue practically bolted from the room, the scent of sickness wafting after her. She stumbles when her feet touched snow, but she didn't care. She continued walking deeper into the Godswoods, the heart tree her only true focus. During her time in Winterfell; she came many times to the heart tree, her visits nearly thrice a day with Jon's illness raging. She knelt in the melting snow, pressing her forehead to the weirwood roots.

"Please, save him. He is only a child. You let him suffer enough," Yue cried, her vision blurring as tears filled her eyes.

The wind was still, she couldn't feel their presence. Usually she could feel the comfort and heavy weight on her back, much like a hug. But she just felt chill and empty. 

"He lost his father before he could meet him, his mother held him as she was dying, you keep separating him from those who love him. You are ruining him." 

Rage licked through her veins, as she remembered how lonely and miserable Jon got whenever she was packing. He wanted her to stay but she never did. She remembers how bright his face lights up when he sees her. How hard he clings during the first days as if she'll disappear. Lyanna should've been alive, Ashara should had argued more for him, Ned should've been a better father, she should've stayed.

She glared at the carved face, "Please, I'm begging you. Whatever your plans are, stop. Let him live. Let him be free of worries. Please, heal him. I'll do anything, just let him live."

She waited in the cold, and still the Gods gave no signs of hearing her. Yue shook her head, saying, "I thought the Gods were merciful to those in need."

She went back inside, her feet cold and numb, and she sat down by Jon's side. He was still asleep but there wasn't much she could have done had he been awake. He's dying and unless the Gods are merciful, he will die within the next few days.

-

"Let me see Jon!" Robb cried struggling against Old Nan. 

The old woman was keeping Robb from even getting within ten feet of the door. All Robb wanted was to see his brother. Why wouldn't they let him? He's not sick anymore, he's better. Maybe he can help Jon feel better.

"I'm sorry, Robb. But your lady mother said to keep you away. It's not safe for children to be here. And it's not something you should see." Old Man said with a shake of her head. No child should watch their brother die, slowly, painfully in front of them... no parent should either.

Lord Stark has yet to leave the room to take care of his lordly duties. Lady Stark and Maester Luwin had been taking care of what little there was. News barely left Jon's sick room, it never changed. The boy was worsening and no one wanted to let Robb see what Jon had become.

"Come now little lord, I have a few new stories I can tell."

Robb pouted, scrubbing at his face. "Fine."

They walked away, Robb turning his head back with every other step. Despite this, he hadn't seen his mother coming from the direction of the Great Keep. In Catelyn's hands, she had a prayer wheel.

No one knew how guilty she felt, how she hadn't gotten enough sleep since the boys got sick. Robb had gotten better but Jon only worsened. Her Gods had answered her prayers, and now her husband's bastard was suffering for her pettiness. She was letting an innocent child die a horrible death all because she was jealous of a dead woman, a woman she didn't know, a woman who the child didn't even know.

She knocked quietly on the door, hesitating even after hearing acquiesce. She entered the room, the scent of death wafting in her face. Both Ned and Yue looked haggard, deep dark circles under their eyes. The pox marked Jon was under furs and blankets, his heavy breaths the only true sound in the room.

"Cat..."

"I brought this," Catelyn said, holding up the prayer wheel weakly. "I thought anything could help at this point."

"Thank you."

The room fell silent again after Catelyn hung the prayer wheel against the wall closest to Jon. She felt awkward, she had no place here. She quietly excused herself.

She felt shame faced, quickly heading her way to the Sept. She would beg the Seven to take it back, take it all back. She would be a better person.

The next day and the day after were much the same: she woke, made sure Robb was happy, had breakfast, took care of Ned's duties, made another prayer wheel, left it in Jon's room and ended her day with praying in the Sept and dinner in her room.

The fourth and what would be know as Jon's final day, started much the same until Rodrik interrupted Ned. A man had deserted the Night's Watch, he'd been captured and it was Ned's duty to execute him. Unfortunately only Catelyn and Maester Luwin were available, for Yue had left only moments earlier to bath and rest in her rooms. The woman needed the rest badly or else she would get sick as well.

Maester Luwin checked on Jon and saw that he was no better than the last time he checked, he said if Jon made it through this night, he'd live.

But it would be a very long night. 

The doubtful look on his face was no reassurance.

So she sat with him, the only light coming from the fireplace. Listening to his ragged little breaths, his coughing, his whimpering as she bent branches into the proper shape, the figures of the seven were waiting to be laced into the circle. She looked up from her work, eyes tearing as she stared at Jon.

Jon Snow the babe her husband had brought home before their own son had even been in Winterfell. She hated looking at him, the boy so like Ned. Twice before guests had made the mistake of calling Jon her and Ned's son, and Robb his bastard. It had spurned her to be more aggressive in her prayers, if only the Seven would grant her this.

And they did.

The pox came first to her son and spread to Jon. And now he was dying while Robb was brimming with life. Nausea spread through her as she realized what kind of woman she'd become. 

A murderer.

Now she desperately prayed to all seven gods, 

"Mother please have mercy. Let the boy live. Let him live and I'll love him. I'll be a mother to him..." Her voice grew soft as coughs wracked Jon's body. They overshadowed her words but she continued, "I'll beg my husband to give him a true name, to call him Stark and be done with it, to make him one of us."

His coughs subsided for a moment, and they had a moment of peace. Catelyn relaxed releasing her breath. Yue came back, snow melting in her hair. She had gone for solace in the Godswoods rather than rest in her room.

"I heard Lord Stark was needed, I came as quick as I could. How is he?"

Catelyn smiled, "His coughing stopped."

Yue gave a weak smile in return, "That - that is good."

All was good for a time, then night fell and his cough returned with a vengeance. Blood and mucus dirtied his clothing and every handkerchief they had. Catelyn rocked in the corner, fingers flying as she hurried to finish a prayer wheel, then another. Yue, Ned and Maester Luwin were near her, discussing what else they could do.

"I never seen a case this bad. It should have cleared by now, his fever should have broken. We've done everything." Yue hissed, desperation coloring her voice. 

"Perhaps another maester brought in."

"There's nothing to be done, my lord. I have sent ravens to other maesters and their suggestions are only things we've tried before. All we can do it hope the Gods have mercy." Maester Luwin said forlornly.

Yue shook her head, she licked her dry mouth before speaking, "No, there is one thing we can do."

"I thought you said it was too strong."

"Not the neem. Milk of the Poppy. We end his suffering and pray his next life won't be as unforgiving." 

Ned became furious, his body seemed to grow as his anger made its presence known. He snarled, "No, I won't let you kill him."

Yue wasn't afraid of him, she got in his face jabbing a finger into his chest. Her face looked rather hawkish when pinched with anger. The maester seemed to understand he no longer had any part in this conversation and backed away from the two.

"I rather not let him suffer anymore. What kind of life will he live if he does survive? He'll be pox marked, have weak lungs, and tire easy. No child will play with him and once he's older; his poor health paired his bastard status, he'll be treated no better than a greyscale victim. What life is that?"

"You know why I can't." Ned gritted out, then softly whispered while he glanced at Cat. "He's all I have left of her."

Very gently but no less angry, she rested her hands on his shoulders, tightly gripping him as she looked him in the eye. "She lives on in your memories, just as he will. But right now he's dying and if he hasn't pulled through now, I doubt he will. All we are doing is torturing him."

Ned looked at his nephew, saw how delirious he was. He remembered then screaming, the coughing, the crying. He saw how the pox marred Jon's face and how pus seeped from many of the boils. Robb never looked like that while sick, not even at his worst. Finally he nodded.

"It'll be liked going to sleep." Yue murmured, she went Maester Luwin's side and asked him to bring more Milk of the Poppy.

Jon's small bed barely had enough room for both of them to sit on, so she took him into her arms. Jon shook in her arms, breath stuttering whole he weakly gripped her dress.

"Ma?"

Yue blinked away tears, she looked at him but his eyes were still unaware. It was a fluke. Maester Luwin had returned with two vials of Poppy Milk, more than enough to make Jon sleep... forever.

"Sweetling, I need to open your mouth."

Jon groaned, his head falling away to the wayside. Yue took his jaw in one hand, opening his mouth and with the other took the first vial of Poppy. Gently she tipped his head, Ned helped by massaging Jon's throat as she tipped the vial into his mouth. One emptied, then the next and Jon was relaxing in Yue's arms, dazed and listening to her heartbeat. 

Ned knelt on the ground, taking one of Jon's small hands, his own large hand enveloping it. Catelyn watched the scene with barely concealed horror, it was all her fault. The Seven knew she couldn't keep her promise, they would not undo it. The child would die tonight.

"I'm sorry, Jon. I wasn't the best father to you. But I will always love you and will Yue. If Amira and Uncle Benjen were here they would tell you too..." After a moment of hesitation and a glance at the still rocking Cat, he continued. "Your mother loves you so much, and she won't be happy at me for letting you see her again so soon but she will be happy with you. I promise."

Jon's head started to droop, his eyes struggled to stay open, he felt so want and tired. It wouldn't hurt to go to sleep now. He could sleep and when he woke up he'd feel better. His breaths grew slower and shallower. His skin grew cold and clammy to the touch but Yue never let go, not until his heart had long since stopped beating.


	7. Interlude: Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I captured Jon's voice in this. I might come back to this later on. :/ It's a bit of a confusion, it lacks chronology and it can unreliable, it got a little dialogue heavy towards the end, and writing children is hard but I'm still ridiculously excited. The reason I started writing this fic is coming up soon!! Any theories/headcanons/magic featured here are my own personal headcanons/theories based on what i've read or just for story's sake. Though I've been know to confuse things so ehhh...
> 
> Warning there will be a multiple occasions of infant death since this is the reincarnation chapter, some are are non graphic/allusions. Unfortunately GoT is not the nicest world and there will be instances of infant/child murder, some that are kinda graphic. If you wish to skip it, skip these ones which are the most graphic Astapor: A Slave Mother and The Gift: The Many Mothers and possibly Dreadfort: Forbidden Family.

He didn't remember much at all before. He did but not in the same sense one would recall. Each life he remembers because they are there practically catalogued like books, but he likes the first life the best. In this strange space where he grows and waits for his next body to grow within a womb and for life to greet him, he learns. 

It's beautiful in a way, while it was for the most empty this place gave him what he needed. Clothes, books, paper, tools, weapons. It gave him the best teachers as well though from what little he gleamed, they were merely shades of their true selves that didn't really interact with him aside from teaching him.

...but it was lonely. There was never anyone else here. Not truly. He was allowed to look at his memories, or at least he thought so. No one came to stop him nor was he ever unable to see them. 

The first life was the best and worst.

The longest life he had so far.

Depressing if he thought on it.

Jaehaerys Targaryen. 

Jon Snow. 

He was not yet three when he died. 

But he died loved.

He never got to know his father aside from the history books, though he suspects they've brought him here under disguise at one point. For when he thinks of his father, he remembers a man's sad eyes and small smile.

His mother, Lyanna Stark, she holds part of his heart. She loved talking to him. And those memories of the womb shouldn't be possible, shouldn't be remembered but they were. Some nights he would go to sleep hearing her talk about Winterfell, about his father, about her brothers, of how much she loved him.

For what little time they had together after his birth, she still sick with birth fever never stopped holding him until they heard sounds of danger coming from outside the sandstone tower. 

The next women loved him as fiercely as his mother but they were separated by his uncle and by death. Amira was loving, in the few days she had him she made he knew he was loved. She would talk softly about his mother and the silly things they'd done to the knight guarding them. She made his most treasured possessions. A blanket with a white direwolf and blue roses embroidered on it, the stuff dragon he'd slept with and the carved obsidian wolf token he still wore around his neck even today.

Wylla his nurse maid...while he would say she cared, she never let herself get attached. She made sure he was healthy, clean and well cared but she never gave affection. There were no lullabies, no cuddling or loving kisses. He hadn't felt much of a loss when she left Winterfell and his care went to two young maids that kept rather efficient and cold towards him. 

He had another caretaker, Dinah took care of him for a few months until she died in accident. She played with him the most and gave him sweet honey. He liked her bees the best, they made funny noises. Her husband Mikken let him and Robb watch him fix weapons. He even made them little wooden swords so they could play fight.

But after her death, he had to rely on his uncle for affection and that was hard. Lady Stark had no love for Jon, she did not like that he played with her boy or that he shared her husband's love. Being near her felt suffocating, though he didn't understand that at the time. All he knew was he needed to get away. So much of his father's affection was mild compared to what he gave Robb. But Jon could tell he was loved from the way it shone through his uncle's eyes.

Another woman who loved him was Yue. With her it was different. Her love hadn't come easy, it started from loyalty to women she spent a year shut away in a tower. She didn't visit often at first but by his second year, her visits became more frequent just after Wylla left.

While he wouldn't call her soft, he would not say she was harsh either. Yue seemed to understand him the most, many of her interactions with him were quiet. All he really want was to be held, whether is was in her arms or just holding her hand. He wanted to show someone what he could do, he wanted to show his home and all his favorite places. It was something he couldn't do without her.

Sad eyed sweetling is what she called him. Few times when she had been deep in her cups, Yue would tease him on how such a solem eyed babe he was. Already done with the world, she said. 

And then she paled and kept apologizing, bring him close for a cuddle.

"You are loved, Jon Snow. Never doubt that. Those who do, they know nothing." Though wine tainted her breath, he did not doubt her sincerity. 

She was there when he got sick, for two weeks he was sick. And she arrived on the fourth day, shooing the maester away. She cared not of her own health, she stayed at his side and she only left his side to pray in the Godswoods. Cool rags, warm broths, foul medicine and careful petting made up much of his day, he could hear his father's voice during the nights, Yue's tales during the day and Robb's frustrated cries from outside the door. What little sleep he does get is devoured by dreams of fire breathing dragons, cold blades coated with warm blood, howling wolves and blue roses.

When Lady Stark joined them in his last days with her prayer wheels, he hadn't understood that his time was ending. He remembered while Yue was gone, Lady Stark spoke her prayer aloud.

"Mother please have mercy. Let the boy live. Let him live and I'll love him. I'll be a mother to him..." Her voice grew soft as coughs wracked Jon's body. It blocked out the rest of her promise, but it hadn't matter. The same night he passed into this strange haven.

He died sick and with Yue holding him, his uncle reminding him of all the love he had and would always have. It was her heart beat, the soft croon of his uncle's voice and the warmth of her arms that lulled him to sleep where death embraced him.

When he awoke there had been a woman with him. Not his mother, for her skin was sun kissed and her eyes while dark as obsidian were very warm. 

"You are safe, sweetling. The Gods are not done with you yet. I wanted to give you two gifts before I leave you. The first is this," She said, waving her hand and on the wall - was it a wall? There didn't seem to be one and yet - appeared a portrait. It was his family all of it - he would learn who they truly were in the times to come - from his father, his uncle and Robb to Yue, Dinah, Mikken and Amira to familiar yet strange people. The woman next to him was also there. "I hope I was not presumptuous to include myself and my children there too. You will learn the truth here, but do not blame Ned Stark for not telling you. It was for your protection, just as Ashara lies for his."

Almost as if she weren't conscious of it, her hand raised and touched the figure of the pale haired boy. She traced his features with a mother's love. He wanted to ask who it was but somehow knew it wasn't time yet.

"Other one?" He tried hard not to come off as a spoilt child.

She didn't seem to mind, she smiled and it was like the sun's warmth. "Come."

She led Jon away from the portrait past many things including a fur covered bed, a collection of toys and books, a comfortable looking pile of pillows and led him to where the room touched nature. It was the red and white of the heart tree the greeted him first, then the pond near it.

"When you wish to see of the world outside, come here. When you wish to see your own lives, gather water and bring it back there. There on the desk you will find the name of every being you were, write it down on paper and put the paper in the water. It will melt and be ready for you to see through. You will see and you will learn the truth."

-

The first time he been reborn it had only been a month after his death. This time he was son of Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully. Years later he would laugh, Lady Stark wouldn't have been rid of him just yet if he had lived longer than a day.

After that he went through cycles of waiting then living short lives. Some human, some as an animal, no matter the gender he died scared most times. He was reborn so often things blurred even with his memory well helping him.

**The Eeryie: Lysa Arryn**

Her first son of their marriage, was a hatching as frail and weakly as her. A tuff of red hair on his otherwise bald head, Tulley blue eyes, and Jon's hawkish nose. He had noodly arms that couldn't stop shaking no matter how many blankets she gave, his breathing more like a bird's screeching. 

Her earlier experience with moon tea had warped her womb, she could not carry properly without plenty of rest. At least that was what the maester said but Lysa knew otherwise. Her womb was death touched, she lost three other babes before this one and Jon only knew of one of those instances. She let hope take her when she realized she close to the end. Soren would be the first to be carried to full term. Then he came a month early but unlike other babes born early, his lungs had been damaged, too damaged. 

Little Soren Arryn, swathed in robin's egg blue, died struggling to breathe and with the feel of his mother's tears on his face.

-

When he returned, he couldn't stop crying. It wasn't fair! He just wanted his father! Why couldn't he go back to Winterfell to his father and Robb?

He ran to the pond and asked to see Robb right then.

"Can Jon hear me?" Robb said, kneeling at the base of the heart tree. He copied his father's clasped hands as he looked the the carved face. "Really hears me if I talkeded?"

"Perhaps, we do not know what happens after. Maybe he's listening now. Just close your eyes and listen to the woods, the wind carries it's words."

Robb did, his little brow scrunching up in concentration as he shouted hello inside his mind over and over again until he paused to hear a response.

"...Robb...Robb...Robb...Home..." 

Robb's eyes snapped open and he frantically looked around. He heard Jon! He did! He did!

He smiled at his father who looked amused by Robb's antics. Jon looked on a little sad that his message didn't fully reach him nor did it even give his father any attention.

-

**Beyond the Wall: A Castor wife**

Valda tried to keep her screams from leaving her mouth. She did not want him to know she was birthing her baby. Let him think she struggles. Deep in her bones she knew, this bairn was a boy. Her boy, he would not take it as he had her others. Little Gilly looked fearful as she stared at her sister-mother, she took a chance to look outside the birthing hut. No one was out here. Only Roost was with them making sure Valda didn't bleed herself to death. 

"It is time."

Gilly offered her arm to her mother while Roost stuffed cloth into Valda's mouth. The pain in her arm almost made Gilly wail, as it was tears sprung in her eyes. She put her fist in her mouth to stifle her own cries.

Valda's sobs were muffled as pushed. The pain was to great, her lad was too big he would rip her in two. She shook her head and kept thinking, I can't do it. I can't.

"His head is almost out. Now push!"

Even through the cloth, Valda's scream could be heard within Castor's main hut. Gilly was now crying in earnest, blood dripping from her arm. The babe cried just as much as Gilly, though much louder.

"It's a boy."

The hut got colder, an inexplicable colder as they all fell silent. 

"Daybreak will come soon. Castor can't take him tonight. You'll have him for one day at least."

"No. He won't take him. Not while I still live."

"Val? Mama?" Gilly said fear etching her face. Was she going to be left alone?

Valda didn't look at Gilly. She looked at her son, "I won't give up another son. I will protect Balik and I'll leave soon for another clan."

"Balik?"

"Your brother, Gilly."

"You're still too weak to travel." Roost said, she didn't blame Valda for wanting to leave. If she stayed, it would be her third son Castor would give up. And that was three sons too many.

"I'll take my chances. Take care of Gilly for me, Roost."

"You don't need to ask. She is family."

Only an hour before daybreak, Valda limped out into the woods with Balik strapped to her under her furs. She walked through the day, getting as far as she could from Castor. There should be another clan at least a days walk away and she would be ready for anything she had her spear, her trap caught them a rabbit and she found dry wood in case a wright came. She wasn't sure what she would do against a white Walker.

In the end it didn't matter, a sudden snow flurry took her by surprise. Valda and Balik died feeling warm in their winter blanket.

-

One day Jon finally decides to learn the truth. Its been five years since his death - the first one - and as far as he's concerned the most important one. He feels like he's lived enough lives to deserve the truth. 

He throws the pensive bowl at the wall after. He cries and uses a knife, he doesn't where it came from nor does he really care right now. Jon attacks the painting with fury. The only faces untouched are those of Robb, Dinah, Mikken and his brother and sister as he now knows the two strange kids as. Even the woman, Elia who greeted him lied, why didn't she just tell him?

He was lied to for his whole life. 

_"You will learn the truth here, but do not blame Ned Stark for not telling you. It was for your protection, just as Ashara lies for his."_

He threw books around, tearing pages out by the handful. Toys knocked over and even Shel his dragon was ripped.

_"Promise me. Promise me, Ned."_

He tugged at his chain, throwing it towards the pond but not landing in it.

_"I see no babes, only dragonspawn."_

Jon falls to the floor, kneeling but trying to curl in on himself. He pulled at his hair as all these words circled his mind. 

_"That wickedness, its his bastard blood."_

"I never asked for it to be this way! I never asked to be born!" Jon cries, voice cracking as he replies to voices that aren't there. His throat's sore but he's still screaming, still crying.

_"He is my blood."_

He knows the truth now.

_"Send him away! He is just a bastard. He is not Robb, he is not your trueborn son."_

He wished he didn't.

_"You are loved, Jon Snow. Never doubt that. Those who do, they know nothing."_

He stops. 

He looks up at the destruction he made. Voice weak he looks right at the torn portrait and whispered, "It's not my fault."

**Astapor: A Slave Mother**

In Astapor, the slave mothers know they will lose at least one child in their lifetime. Most pray that it will be to sickness or accident. But very little of those prayers come true.

The way most mothers lose their children to the Unsullied, whether it's by joining them or through the right of passage.

On this day in Astapor, the sun was shining and the new mother, Nesila was smiling at her sweet girl, Tuya. Her master had been good and was letting Nesila bring her along. They would be sold together, he promised. The other women tutted at her naivety. They heard whispers of who would visit today. 

Already mothers pressed kisses to the babies, the ones who've lost multiples cried silently. New mothers look fearful, clutching their babies to their chest. Only Nesila was unafraid, her master promised and she had been a good slave. He would not allow anything to happen. 

She was wrong.

That day there was not a cloud in the sky, the sun burned bright and the wind was cool. Tuya giggled, kicking her feet when her mother tickled them. That day the yet to be blood stalked into through the city streets, a silver mark clutched in hand. These boys knew no fear, they did not recognize the fear the women in front of them had. Very efficiently they went to the mothers, most lifted the babies carelessly by their arm or leg.

Nesila could only scream as her girl was ripped from her arms. Fear froze her as she looked at the boy who shook Tuya violently to stop her wailing. She did nothing as the boy took his knife, twirled it once before stabbing Tuya in the belly and chest multiple times. He didn't stop shaking her as his did, blood dripped to the floor and onto Nesila. 

Tuya still hadn't stopped her crying, it had gotten worse with other babes joining her wails. The boy looked frustrated for a second before a blank look took over. The next time his blade hit caused silence to fall.

There was a loud crack as it fell to the ground. Sweet doe eyed Tuya look up at her mother, face contorted in pain and bleeding sluggishly from her neck stump. Nesila wanted to reach for her sweet girl, but every time she tried she couldn't. Her eyes were clouded with tears and all she heard were wails. She did not know if they came from her mouth or not.

"Bloody thirsty that one." Her master laughed, as he held his hand out for the silver mark.

-

The day after his breakdown he woke up and everything was back to normal, everything was as if it never broke. He stopped to look at the world and see if Robb or Uncle were there so he could try apologizing as directly as he could. Instead he found Fath- Uncle with a new babe and Robb playing a new boy. Lip trembling he went to the weirwood tree and apologized to those he lost and disgraced in his fit of anger. Jon doesn't expect any answer but the caress of the wind with the scent of sunshine and roses is a comfort. Especially now that he's lost two more of those he loved.

-

**Dragonstone: Lark**

Every day Shireen Baratheon would leave the safety of the castle to play in Aegon's Garden. She liked it there much to both her parents displeasure, for Shireen could be often found where the garden's heart tree was. The sickly tree with the carved face reminded her of her own, from the books in the library she discovered that one of the Targaryens had carved it so they could continue to practice the old ways after only a Sept was built on Dragonstone. Every time she was caught playing there, her mother would make do more lessons with her Septa.

"We are in the South. We are Baratheons, not Starks! Ours is the faith of the seven. You should pray to the Mother for giving you mercy, without her you would not live." Her mother would spit at Shireen. 

Her father on the other hand would sigh, looking so much older than he was. He would give her a stern order not to go back without an escort. 

But Shireen still went.

She was lonely and scared. Her mother thought she was weak and a shameful reminder of her failures. Her father was busy as Master of Ships. Dragonstone was no place for children with its dreary stone and dreadful carvings of dragons and other beasts. And the few children that were around would either avoid her or stare for the same reason - her greyscale.

In Aegon's Garden there was always her Lark. The bird was strange though. It always found Shireen when she was sad or lost. She would bring Shireen things, mostly shiny sea glass or obsidian or bits of fabric. Lark had been there for as long as Shireen could remember. She - well Shireen assumed it was a she - would sing and twitter as if she could really answer all of Shireen's questions. Lark would do tricks for bits of Shireen's snacks, she would do it even if Shireen had none. 

One name day she asked Ser Davos for a large cage so Shireen could have her in her room. Together they went to the gardens, Shireen whistled the three note tune that usually brought Lark to her but she did not come.

"Lark! Lark!" Shireen called, cupping her hands to project her voice. She whistled once more, "Lark!"

But Lark never came and Shireen lost another friend.

-

He missed some things about being an animal. It was easier to forget he was human when he had a body with wings, scales or four paws. He didn't have to think of still healing betrayals or of how little Robb came to the heart tree. He only thought of survival and of little Shireen. 

Only after he learns of Warging does he realize why they make those lives the shortest when he was younger. He can not forget he was human. 

But he misses the freedom.

-

**Dreadfort: Forbidden Family**

If one lived in the Dreadfort, one was not allowed much joy. Only the foolish did things in secret and kept quiet or most would beg Lord Bolton for their wish. Olly Harcourt and his new wife, Myriam were ones foolish enough to think they could hide it forever. Not with her belly quickening and Lady Bolton's loose tongue.

Myriam had only just given birth an hour ago when soldiers burst into their home. Her unnamed bairn was ripped from her arms by Lord Bolton himself in the same breath a knife was thrust into her husband's skull.

"Did you really think you could keep it a secret?"

Myriam was so weak, she couldn't rise to do anything. Her Olly tried to talk but his words were stuttered and the men still held him.

"Please, Lord Bolton."

Roose Bolton held the babe from her feet, staring at her genitals with a sneer. "Useless. Not even a boy."

And with that the babe was thrown hard at the wall, her little head shattering before she could even scream.

-

Jon has died in many ways. He's died from poison, from assassination, from accidents. His deaths can be accredited to friends and family, strangers and enemies alike. He was sure he experienced worse variations of those but he tried to avoid looking at those. Most of all Jon hated when his deaths reflected the death of his family. Jon has been strangled, stabbed, thrown against a wall, died of fever, died in the cold, died struggling to breathe.

And there was only one left death left. One he feared the most.

Death in the flames.

-

**The Neck: Lady Reed**

"Hello again, Jon Snow." Howland Reed said looking down at Yara's new son. 

A set of twins, one boy and one girl, Yara seemed to understand that this boy was not for her. The Gods had granted her plea for a child all her own and they gave her her daughter as well as made her vessel for the boy. He needs rest is all the Gods would tell her in her dreams. She was just a vessel, Yara felt nothing as Howland left her hut with the boy. She wished them well.

The babe never cried as they walked back to the Greywater Watch. Howland looked at Jon, this birth he was born fair haired and blue eyed, nothing like a Stark and he knew the Gods had been purposeful in that sense. This birth would be one where Jon was allowed to himself again without the Stark look haunting him and free the harsh stares he'd known in Winterfell.

Here Meera would protect him, Jojen would have a friend and Jon Snow could live without fear of dying looming over his head. Here he would learn one last gift.

But that's a matter for another day, today Jon would live.

And live he did.

Meera delighted over having a new brother even when Jojen said it was only temporary. In fact she smacked his head lightly at that comment, "Be nice, he's ours for now." She looked expectantly at her father, "Could I show him to Mother?"

"Of course, she's waiting."

Jyana Reed smiled at the boy in her arms. She felt at peace looking at this fair haired boy. This one is mine, for however long she has him he would be. The Gods didn't need him yet.

Yes she loved her children but sometimes it felt like they weren't for her. Meera was never at her side, instead she had wander around either with her father or aimlessly while she waited. She hadn't know who or what she'd been waiting for until her mother conceived Jojen. Then she followed her until Jojen was born and became his primary caregiver. 

And Jojen, sweet excitable Jojen didn't understand restraint until his first vision. It subdued him a little made him a touch more serious. She was fine with having a son with greensight but she wasn't prepared to watch him suffer with violent shakes. Each time she begged Howland to give him milk of the poppy but he refused insisting her son was for the Gods this life time.

But Jon would be her child, he would learn from her side and not Howland's.

Jyana used her knife to to draw pictures in the dirt as she told her stories. He learned to swim before he walked, of the stars long before his letters. Jon never wandered away from Jyana's side, most times he could be found sleeping while she carried him around as she did her duties unless his siblings took him away much to their mother's disapproval.

She never liked how others looked at him. They knew he was different, he was a Reed yet not. He wasn't a traditional cronnagmen, fair haired thin and tall even at two. The way he talked about the Gods made people look twice and question him for answers. She tried to make sure Meera and Jojen kept Jon away from the adults and the fanatics, instead sticking to only children.

Jon's first words were Mama, his tongue curling easily around the true tongue as easy as it did around the common. She wanted to teach him the songs of the earth in the true tongue. Jyana brought out the harp Howland got for her when they first married and Jon eagerly reached for it. Amused, she let him pluck the strings as she sang a tune.

His small hands knew how to move, Jon got absorbed in the song, he didn't notice that she stopped singing. By the time he finished and looked up his mother was in tears. Jon was scared, he didn't want to play anymore, but she assured him he did nothing wrong. It was just a sad song. He resolved to only play happy songs after that.

His first steps toward Meera, and she took that as permission to drag him along as she explored every single nook of the land. She showed him how to avoid the bright parts of the marsh, the ground was unstable where it was brighter. She showed him how the moss would show him the way home. Meera showed him showed him to make his own miniature spear, dig crayfish and chase frogs with the other kids.

Jojen shows him the plants that could kill him and the plants that could save him. He shows him how to watch people and see their secrets. He talks about his dreams to Jon, half wondering if it'll jog something from his memories but Father said he never remembered his human life in a new human body, only in animals to keep him tethered.

While Howland did spend time with Jon, Jyana - with some guilt - limited it as much as possible. She knew Howland would teach Jon how to leave one day and she wasn't ready for that yet. 

It's three days before his third name day does Jyana dress him in the best clothes from the softest furs and lizard lion leathers to the deepest green tunic and pants. Her smile is watery as she brushes his long hair, leaving it loose save a pair of thin braids framing his face. 

"Mama?"

"It's time, dearheart. It's time for you to go home."

Jon's eyes widened, tears sprung up as he turned to bury himself in her embrace. He didn't want to leave. Why couldn't he stay? He was happy, his mother was happy. Why couldn't he? Was she tired of him and only wanted her real kids?

Jyana kissed the boy's head before pulling him away. She lifted his chin, Jon was forced to look at her tearful green eyes. "Do not think that I tired of you. I love you as much as I love your brother and sister. I wish I could keep you but I know I can't. You are meant for something greater. Gods be merciful.

"Jon, when I look at you, pride is not the word I'm looking for. Hope. Hope is what I see, you will do something amazing that will change Westeros for the better. But you can't do it if you are here. I promise you, you will see us again one day."

Her hand was warm as she led him up to the weirwood tree. He has no fear of the face, it's a familiar to him as his kin's. Jon used to question how a tree could live and grow when they were a floating fort constantly moving. Father told him of the Gods using giants to tear the fort and the surrounding land up from the earth after two kingdoms disputed over it and placed it in a marsh to protect its people. They made it so long as the weirwood lived, the ground below the fort and the outer laying village would be strong and unbreakable against the water.

He could feel it's power the closer they got. Only five feet away from the tree stood his father. His back was still turned from them but their foot steps had echoed out, informing him of their arrival.

Before Jon could get any closer, he was tackled by both Meera and Jojen into fierce hug. After letting go, Jojen tried to be stoic but Jon knew he was scared. Meera was crying even if she wasn't making a noise. 

"Be safe, promise me." Meera said before running off.

"We'll see you again. I see it happening." Jojen said before he chased after his sister, knowing she was taking it harder than she would admit.

Mother crouched to face him, she cupped his face and pecked his forehead.

"Be brave." She whispered before she too left.

His father finally faced him and Jon is surprised to see his happy father sad and serious. The man in front of him seemed too old today, weighed by knowledge he hadn't been prepared for but still held it. Then again Jon is leaving and he would be the cause of it.

Very carefully Howland talks, he shows Jon to cut the weirwood for its red sap. The deep red coats his fingers as learns the symbol he has to draw to leave. It's a very simple symbol, each finger represented a tree branch so he had to keep his fingers spread for a time before bringing them together to form a beak like gesture. Then using his joined fingers he was to draw the trunk before spreading his fingers again for a short moment as he thought the word home in the old tongue.

A white glow enveloped him as he sunk into the tree's trunk, Jon could hear his father's voice saying "Just one more." 

One more what? Jon thought as he slipped into his other home still dressed in the clothes Mother Jyana gave him but looking in the pond showed him his Stark face.

-

Life with the Reeds has reminded him not all his incarnations have suffered. The portrait changes as he finally admit he has gained more than he has lost. The blue haired Griff, shy Daenerys, inquisitive Shireen, and the whole Reed family join it's original occupants.

After being with the Reeds, the time between lives got longer as he caught up on his education and training in his older body. Still, most of his free time is devoted to remembering the good things. He spends time swimming in the pools in Dorne, learning to hunt using four paws instead of hands, he lays in the flowers in Highgarden. He chases after older siblings over the wall and fusses over his nest in the woods never the Riverlands. He learns that his flying is different than what the Eeryie calls flying. He learns what it's like to have a twin and what it means to be a whole person after that.

Time doesn't move the same for him anymore he realizes as he takes account of how many lives he's lived. Even in the short time he has outside this place, he's lived more than he ever thought he would.

The thought frightens and excites him.

-

**Pentos: The Dragon and The Griffin**

"Daenerys!" The girl in question jumped, looking fearfully back at her brother. "Get away from that filthy beast."

She looked sadly at the white cat she'd been playing with. It had appeared in Illyrio's home one morning and it liked being near her. She often used her silk scarves to tease Crest and he enjoyed the game as much as her if not more so when she laughed. She had assumed - wrongfully it seemed - that Viserys had been in a good mood and gotten him for her or at the very least allowed Illyrio to get it for her. 

She stepped away from Crest, and tried to shoo it away. Viserys would not allow her to keep it now. He never lets her keep anything that makes her happy. The cat made big eyes and tried stepping towards her. Mournfully and hoping her eyes conveyed her apologies, Daenerys bent down grabbing a stone and pitched it at the cat. 

Daenerys withered in on herself when it hit his leg and he let out a pained yowl. If animals could emote, she was sure the cat was giving her a sad look as she turned to face her brother.

The cat understood he was not welcome anymore and went off to find his next home. Little did the last children of Aerys known, the white cat Daenerys had called Crest would soon find another Targaryen.

On the docks of Pentos there ship 'Shy Maid' is docking for supplies. Left to boredom, a young man watches his father's crew depart from the ship with strict order not to leave the ship unless it's with Duck or Lemore. Duck was still bedridden from his last injury and Lemore was tending to him, which meant Young Griff couldn't leave the ship or even practice his sword play. He knew it was because his blue hair was fading and starting to show white blonde. 

It still didn't mean he thought it fair. If he was old enough to learn how to use a sword then surely he was old enough to walk around the docks without a chaperone. Griff continued to stare out at the docks, when he spotted something very interesting.

If something came to him, he wasn't breaking any rules was he. 

Technically.

Or at least that's what he'd agrue if anyone came back early.

He stood on the gangplank, technically still on the ship, left over fish from his lunch being waved as he made a clicking noise. His current prey was a white cat, the poor thing had been struck at one point that day looking at the blood matting it's hind leg. The cat seemed to be contemplating whether it was the smart thing to do.

Finally the cat strut over to him as if it were royalty, Griff laughed letting the proud thing eat. This would sate his boredom for a while. The thing gave him the side eye before continuing to eat. 

Griff raised a hand to which had the cat bristling. Very slowly, with eyes firmly on the cat he lowered his hand onto it. The cat - he really need to think of a name for it even if it was only a temporary one - stayed still after the first moment but quickly nuzzled Griff's hand.

"Well, now...Opal? Oh no, then how about Salt? Snow? Alright, alright no Snow." Griff said quickly after the cat nearly scratched him. Griff kept petting him though. "Aspen? You like Aspen then. Well come on. I think I can clean up that blood in my cabin."

Lazy cat didn't want to move from the sun warmed spot and Griff rolled his eyes. Very gently he picked up Aspen, carrying him quickly into his quarters before Lemore came out and yelled at him.

The cat was fine to roll in Griff's sheets, the expression on its face was one Griff would call smug. Aspen didn't seem uncomfortable in the slightest as he moved, Griff likely over exaggerated how hurt Aspen was. Shaking his head, Griff filled a bowl with water and found scraps of cloth to clean with.

"Come on now, can't have you all bloody while we play can we?"

Later when Old Griff and the crew returned, Griff would be in the same spot as if he never moved but his eyes danced with amusement. A grin spread over his face when asked if he'd stayed on the ship the whole time. The grin only grew when he heard his father start sneezing, muttering about blasted cats sneaking about and crawling all over ships like vermin. Griff made sure no one was watching before giving Aspen one final wave.

-

He's gotten better at finding a heart tree and fading into the other before death catches him. But he hasn't figured out if he can direct where he goes in the next life. If he could he would go back to - no he can't allow himself to think of them now.

Perhaps he would go back to Shireen or Daenerys.

Or perhaps he would fly again.

Or not.

The Gods are the only ones to direct him so far. 

-

**The Gift: The Many Mothers**

In the Gift long before the wildling raids increased there used to be groups of nomads, particularly one primarily made up of women and children. Only a handful of the boys grown up in the group stay, most leave for towns for better lives or joined the Night's Watch. The people of the Gift had become accustomed to the large group traveling the lands and coming through the village. 

Most welcomed the women in the early Spring when the planting needed to be started and again just before winter when harvesting began. The women would ask for no coin but part of the harvest as payment and land to set up temporary camp. The children of the village for used to having friends that constantly traveled, friends that some would only see one or twice a year for a few weeks. 

Then there were the few who despaired the woman: unnatural, mannish, loose, immoral. Those were only a handful of descriptors they used against them. The women were considered no better than wildlings, taking by seduction rather than force, uncaring so long as they left satisfied and with a heavy womb. In truth only a handful ever purposely got with child, most only sought release and were careful with their herbs. 

A lot of their time was consumed by raising the children under their care. Only half of the children with them were birthed by the women themselves, a quarter were third and fourth daughters of family often considered useless and the final quarter was made up of orphan children that villages would not take. The Many Mothers they called them for a child could call 'Mother!' and received at least five responses. 

The group was for the most part self sufficient. Some could say it was better to have a Mother in your household than it was to have a father. Not only could the Mothers do typical womanly duties such as cooking and mending clothes, they could hunt and fight as good as any man. While the children weren't the most literate, they were more likely to survive than any other child with the vast array of skills they learned.

Rumors spread often after each visit, some more ludicrous than others. It was said a Mother could lead you better in the dark with no light during your travels than a local could with light and a map. Other would claim they were sent by the Gods themselves to help those abandoned by their kin. 

Why else would they take on such a large brood? 

How else would they gain vast knowledge on things that not even the maesters knew? 

Why else was the harvest always more abundant or the land more fertile after they visited? 

That same logic was used it to explain how the five main matriarchs were unearthly beautiful in different ways despite whispers of their true ages. Only a handful of whispers was about their promiscuity, on cold nights men would warm themselves with tales of their hot cunts, supple flesh and beseeching eyes. 

Their reputation often made them sought out, more sought out than the village itself. Many wanted these mythical women to bless them, they wanted the same fortune as those in the Gift. This caused distress to the villagers of the Gift, while they would not fault them for seeking them out, the visitors often caused destruction in their wake. 

While food stores were full the coffers weren't, visitors often hunted and camped on the land instead of buying food or staying in the local inn. The land under their feet was slowly being destroyed, while the villagers struggled to pay taxes. They could not leave to sell their wares for the next village or town was sometimes weeks away and no man dared go near Castle Black for fear of being confused for a recruit or worse a provisions donator.

After years of this, one angered man decided he had enough, the next time those harlots came to his village he made sure they were taken care of... permanently.

But that was unknown to the Mothers as they made their way through the Gift, this year they separated into smaller groups for they had grown rather large and the oldest children would be leaving to make their way after this harvest. The group belonging to Matriach Dagma was making its way to their favored village.

For Dagma, this year was a special year. Her only blood daughter had returned to them and with her, she brought Dagma a grandson, a chubby cheeked boy of eighteen months. While her daughter despaired being back here, in truth she had no choice. The man she lured had been some highborn heir and his father wanted nothing to ruin his house alliance, especially not some wild woman and her bastard.

"Dag!" A man cried immediately rushing to greet her. Slowly but sure the other villagers came to greet them. "It's been too long, my friend."

"We saw each other last harvest, Donnell." Dagma said with a laugh but none could deny the fondness in her eyes. "Though this year the harvest on my joy began early. Leena returned and she brought with her, her son Boshane."

Donnell gaped and looked for Leena. Last he saw his daughter was many years ago, she had left after her fifteenth name day. To hear that she was back calmed many of his worries. He spotted Leena separate from the group, scowling at a few people but no boy near her.

"And the boy?"

"Bo? He's with the others. The boy in blue." She said easily spotting him. She frowned a little. "She doesn't want to be here. I think she will leave after the harvest...alone."

"Oh, will you take him or...?"

"I think it's time for me to settle in one place... if you'll still have me."

Donnell laced their fingers together, offering her a smile. "Always."

The harvest was quick work with so many hands, not even the kids running through the fields and tossing husks and stalks at each other deterred them. Donnell laughed as Bo led himself a little army of tots against one of his older cousins. The boy was not shy, he quickly made his way to the top of the pack of children. Loud and brash most of the times but he occasionally like the silence. When he needed it, he liked to be near the bees Donnell kept by his hut and was often found there making buzzing noises back at them. 

Donnell often wondered who the boy's father was and if the boy took after him more, he was nothing like his mother. Leena never liked the constant travel and Donnell could not care for her alone when she was so used to constant attention from the Mothers, even now she was planning on leaving soon. Leena encouraged her son to call his grandparents 'Mama' and 'Papa', she wanted him to forget her. She stopped being affectionate, instead of sleeping with her child, her nights were spent flirting with men of the village. She planned on never returning to the Gift but that didn't mean she couldn't have her fun.

On the last day of the harvest, the village threw a party. They provided food while the Mothers did the entertainment. The older Mothers entertained the children with stories and dances. Fee shows off her carving skills and makes little figurines for the kids. Kars loved playing little tricks and making magic. Farah made masks for the kids, laughing at the games they play with them on.

The younger more flirtatious Mothers donned their best clothes, they twisted their bodies in elaborate tricks and dances. More than a few men fell for their charms. As the night lengthen, the amount of villagers in the nomad encampment dwindled to very few. The children of the village were the first sent home and the drunkards were the last.

In the dead of night there was one soul awake and sober as he sneered at the sight of roughly shaped huts ruining the village. The embers of the fires were still glowing red even under the new wood, but not a soul aside from him was awake to see the torch in his hand relight those fires. He made them too large, watching the fire crackle and pop. Small sparks started to make their way to the huts and dry foliage on the ground but it wasn't going fast enough. 

Quietly he crept closer to the huts and began to light those as well. The occupants inside slept soundly either tired from work or sluggish from drink. He felt no guilt when his torch illuminated the faces of young children, they were bastards deserving of death.

The screaming began as he was half way back to the village. He turned around, pretending to be one of the first out to hear it. It was horrifying beautiful how quickly the fire had spread. There were people's clothes smoking but unburnt trying to waken their sisters. 

"Fire!" He cried, waving his hands but not going any closer. "Fire!"

Men younger than him were rushing to help them out while the women went to the well and water troughs with buckets. The screams persisted and the wails of children soon joined them. As people pushed past him, he continued to stare. He fought the grin trying to grace his face, instead he covered it to protect himself from the scent of smoke and burning flesh.

He stumbled as a woman pushed past him harshly, horror marring her beautiful features.

Leena could only cry as she stood by. Even as people tried to fight the fire and find those lost; even as women stumbled out of burning huts curled over smaller bodies, their faces reminding her of melted candles. Children were crawling out, skins blistering and blackening, shrieking for their Mothers to come. 

And still she could not move. Not until water accidentally splashed her face as villagers tried to put more of it out. 

Her mother, her father, her son were burning but she kept being pulled away. Her bare feet bubbled & blistered and pain filled her being as she walked over burning grass and wood. Every time they found someone, her heart stopped. Some died in their sleep from smoke, others were paralyzed with pain as fire ate away at their flesh. Still she had not found any of them.

By the time the fire was out, the sun rose over the hills. By then, Leena finally found her family. It looked like her mother had tried to escape but the fire surrounded them, the villagers too far to hear their pleas over the pained screams. Her father had tried to protect them both by covering them with his body but it was no matter the three had died in the flames long before day broke. Their bodies nearly unrecognizable save for Bo, the only true sign of damage as the blistering on the side of his face. 

Leena stayed in the Gift for a long while, taking care of her burned kin and watching after her father's bees. Now that she had nothing left, she was wary of leaving so soon. The burns on her feet, the stretch marks on her belly of her son and she only had to look in a mirror to see her mother's eyes. 

It was all she had.

-

One day Jon woke to find the woman - Elia - waiting for him. She smiled as she took in the room and it's new additions.

"Hello, Jon."

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to warn you. You're going back...but not like you think."

"Back? You mean...?" Jon trailed off, looking at the weirwood instead of Elia.

"Yes. You were always going to go back to the North, just not this way."

"Then in what way?"

Elia sighed, she wondered why they had her doing this and not his mother, sure it would soften the blow. She paced herself, instead deciding to reveal some of the history behind the Gods.

"Long ago, the Gods were trying to save the people from their doom. They hurried to create a vessel for the savior, but in their haste they made a mistake. The soul split into multiple vessels, they haven't been able to join them back together. The prince who was promised was never a single person. No matter the number, they always had to save it together or else it spelled doom. 

"Azor Ahai and Nissa Nissa saved the world from the darkness. King Aegon I Targaryen, Queen Visenya Targaryen, and Queen Rhaenys Targaryen conquered warring kingdoms to save us from destruction. Now it is your turn: you, Daenerys and Aegon, you three fit traits of the prophecy. You must save the world from the Others before it is too late."

"Why put me through all that then? All the rebirths and deaths? What was that supposed to show me? That they don't care about the people they're supposed to protect?" Jon angrily asks as he thinks of all the women who lost him, their child to the dangers. So many pointless deaths, all he learned was the Gods were not merciful. They only helped when the were most needed but a woman in her sorrow isn't one of them.

"They were trying to bring you back but the vessel was never right. Only as the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna can you fulfill the prophecy. You are the song of ice and fire, you are the way to truly uniting the North and the South against the Others." Elia said, leaning against Jon, enveloping him in a hug. "But everything comes with a price."

"What is the price?"

"You will love and marry a Northern woman."

"That's not so bad."

"I am not finished," She scolded but there was no real anger in her voice. There was more worry in it if Jon was honest. "They will not give you human form - let alone your memories until you fulfill the conditions of the curse."

Jon frowned, if they were to put him into a beastly form without his human memories then how -

"To regain your memories, you will bed a human female and -"

"That is sacrilege!" Jon shouted, sounding more than a little horrified. "To lay with a beast is unholy. It must be a trick!"

"The more you consummate the relationship the more your memories will return. The spell will only break once she gives birth." Elia continued as if he never spoke. "Only a woman who truly loves you will be able to."

"Its a humiliation, how can they approved of this?"

"Many reasons I believe. One, you have yet to realize the true purpose of your rebirths. Two, they always had a love of unconventional, it amuses them. Three, at the behest of your parents, they want to make sure you find someone who will love you no matter what. And four, it's a fallback."

"What?"

"If you should fail, your children will be burdened with this prophecy but by then it may be too late."

"Why my children? Why not Daenerys or Aegon's?"

"It is not only your children but it's more likely to be them. The Targaryen blood is strong in your Aunt and brother, they will seek each other out. Their children will never be the song of ice and fire, only yours. Gods do not favor incest unless it's a means to an end.

"Daenerys will be a good ruler that I believe. They will balance each other in ways that won't seem obvious to others but the North considers itself a separate entity from the South. They will not kneel for much longer." Elia said, a frown appearing on her face. "You can claim they are part of the kingdom but they aren't, not truly. It's vast a land that is greatly isolated from the South, they do their own decisions under the authority of the Starks who claim to do it under the King's. But remember, the North was it's own kingdom before they bowed to the Targaryens."

"The North won't follow a bastard."

"You are no bastard, you are a trueborn son. You will hold more power than you realize."

"But Robb should be king, not me. He is the obvious choice, he is Eddard Stark's first son. He'd be better at it." Jon said, tugging his curls as he panicked. All he could think about Lady Stark's dark stares and her resentment towards him.

"Hush, sweetling." She cooed, squeezing him to her side. She rested her chin on his head, the scent of sap still clinging to his skin. "No one said you had to be king, no one said Robb would be either. You just need their support, remember what your uncle has said 'When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.'....hard times are coming Jon but you need to stick together in anyway possible."

Jon stayed quiet, he wasn't sure how to deal with everything he'd just been told. What would happen if he rejected this deal? Would they force him to do it anyways to save the world or would they just send him into the next life without the constant rebirths? Could he really live with it? Knowing that he could've prevented deaths if he'd only swallowed his pride?

"What will you choose? Yes or no? You do not have much time."

_Humanity or his pride?_

_Selflessness or selfishness?_

_Life or death?_

No, he couldn't. He would find his family again and make sure they survived at whatever cost to him. 

"I'll do it."

Elia smiled weakly, tears beading in the corner of her eyes. Oh sweet fool, you deserve so much more. He has learned but not enough, not the things the Gods wanted him to learn. But she disagrees, he has learned the value of every life whether it be beast or human, highborn or low. And she loved the sweet boy but he was missing what she was putting in front of him. If only he'd realized who they would place in his path to be his wife.

She gazed past him, looking at the pond to see the girl who would be his bride. The girl was play Knights and Knights with her younger brother, grey eyes shining with excitement as she dodged a blow and struck back. The youngest of the boys sat perched on a grey wooden horse, clapping his hands excitedly before passing his sister her prize, the reins to the white one.

The little Stark girl would be a fitting equal for Jon, despite doubts they would have - doubts the Gods themselves had at one point or another befoee deciding it would be so.

The bride of Jaehaerys 'Jon' Targaryen would be Arya Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a temporary two week hiatus to write the next few chapters, gonna try to keep updating on Sundays after it. Other news...my birthday is this Friday, gonna post some other WIP works that days as a little indulgent present to myself. Again if there's any requests visit my writing blog or leave a comment and I'll get back to you.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief chapter to get us caught up on some of Winterfell's happenings as well as the Targaryen plot, mainly Arya centric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how I feel about this chapter but after nearly three weeks of hiatus I felt like I should post what I've done and move on or come back later. I did try to work on them but babies don't stick to schedules and my new nephew came two weeks early, which was weird most of my sister's kids came within a day or two of the predicted due date. Next chapter will be better as we are bring Jon back into the mix and I love Jon.

287

When Arya is born, it's during a Summer snowstorm. The days leading to her birth, the clear sky had gone gray as clouds filled it. The older women of Winterfell frowned, muttering to themselves of bad omens. The last time a child had been born during summer snows, they lost the Lady Lyarra Stark. Sick and feverish from birth, the woman had somehow left her chambers and eluding the guards, escaping to the Godswoods. She had been found praying underneath it, fingers turning purple. She died that same night, leaving behind four children and a grieving husband. 

Lord Rickard was never the same after that.

The women wondered if this was retribution against the Lady Catelyn, for the little boy Jon Snow still lingered in their minds. Four years have passed but no one has forgotten the boy. The room in which he spent his last days was barred from others despite the cleaning it got, it was almost as if they pretended the room - along with its former occupants - never existed. 

It didn't stop the tales from spreading.

Lord Stark's supposed mistress, Yue, no longer visited Winterfell nor Wintertown. She had taken the boy's death the hardest and rested the blame squarely on Lady Catelyn's shoulders.

Benjen Stark, whenever he came to help escort prisoners - if he came - was cool and polite to everyone, even his brother. Though the rumor was he'd raged and fought his brother in the Godswoods when he first came, many months after Jon's death. He hadn't been informed of the boy's passing till much later. Even his affection for young Robb seemed subdued. He couldn't look at the boy without being reminded of the lost child.

Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn had troubles, he hadn't slept in her chambers for months on end after the boy's passing. They barely touched in public, no affection grew between them, only a tolerance. The servants had worried there would only ever be one child to the Stark family, until one day Lord Stark had stopped being so cold. Nearly nine months after the boy's death, did things settle into a pattern. The Lord and Lady of the house grew warmer to each other until they announced the Lady Catelyn's pregnancy.

Sansa Stark was just a Tully colored as her mother and brother. The younger generation of servants and townsman rejoiced but to the older generation...it was a bit of a disappointment, yes children were a blessing but to those who've seen Stark babes grow in the halls of Winterfell it was honest truth. To them, it was as if the South was trying to take over the North in every way. It was bittersweet to know what a Stark child - a child who looked like their Lord as they should always - looked like running through the halls. 

The girl grew to be sweet mannered and delicate. She was a spoiled thing though, her mother often giving in to her pleas for sweets. How she wasn't plumper, they did not know. She was never away from her mother's side. And now they waited as the snow fell heavier, they sighed thinking of the little Southern babe their lady was likely birthing, another Tully colored babe.

They were wrong.

A healer who assisted in the birth came out, her cheeks flushed with excitement making her look years younger than she was. She gestured for everyone to come near, she looked around a grin spreading over her face. 

"She is Stark colored."

The news spread faster than anything else. The girl who'd yet to be named was Stark colored. She came into the world howling like any wolf blooded child. Her eyes was grey, her hair dark and wavy, long face and body softened by baby fat. The picture that came to mind was reminiscent of one of Jon Snow. 

A servant girl sent to help clean the birthing room said the Lady had gone pale and nearly dropped the babe when she first caught glimpse of her. The servant was too young to remember the boy with the name Snow, who they knew the Stark daughter could pass as double. The Gods must be punishing Catelyn, the older servants whispered. Could the lady love a girl who looked like the bastard she scorned?

They did not know.

When the little babe was presented to the people of Winterfell, they saw the Lady was not around. Bed rest was the excuse but others saw different. She did not want to face them, to be reminded of the shame and hate she once held for a child who looked exactly like her daughter. To see Lord Stark hold a babe as Stark colored as him was like the past had come alive again. They were reminded of Jon Snow as Ned announced the girl's name.

"Arya Stark, the newest addition to the Stark line." 

They looked at their Lord and how warm he smiled at the child, how young Robb begged to hold his dear sister.

"She needs to meet Jon, Father! Let me take her, please!" Robb insisted, tugging on his father's arm. Everyone seemed to freeze when the heard his say that name. They freely whispered and thought the name but never in front of Lord Stark. With bated breath they waited to see how the man would react. It was so silent that a pin could drop and everyone would hear it. 

Ned had stiffened when he heard Jon's name pass from his son's lips. After Jon's death, he tried to comfort Robb reminding he would always be here in spirit. He had told him that Jon could hear him in the Godswoods, Robb claimed Jon sometimes talked back using the wind but those were tales of fancy. After a while Jon's name was hardly spoken in Ned's presence, only Robb and Benjen still did and only when they were all alone.

"Yes," He said slowly, carefully choosing his words. "We will go to the Godswoods to pray to the Gods and present your sister to them. Go ready yourself."

Robb smiled, he ran off with Old Nan going after him and despite Old Nan's warnings to slow, he didn't. The Septa who helped in Robb's care frowned and shook her head, the boy spent too much time with the Old Gods. It would not do, she would have to talk to Lady Catelyn again.

Ned adjusted the furs around Arya who woke with the slight movement. She did not wail, she merely stared a while. Her grey gaze was not the solemn sight he had been accustomed to. Very briefly he wondered how Jon would have reacted, to having a sibling that look much like him. His heart gripped with pain for that thought would never be a reality. Jon was gone, he passed into the next world; Ned would not dwell on the dead dreams, not while he had one of his daughters in his arms.

Speaking of daughters, he looked to where Sansa and Septa Mordane were and asked, "Will you be joining us Sansa?"

Sansa despite being only two years old, tried very hard at being a lady already, she looked to her Septa before she held her head high saying, "No, Father."

She positively beamed for she finally managed to say Father without a lisp. Ned smiled weakly, much like her mother, Sansa never liked the Godswoods the heart tree frightened her. Perhaps when she was older she wouldn't mind.

Their walk to the Godswoods is a quiet one, Robb mumbles under his breath words that Ned can't make out and Arya is squinting at his face. They arrive in short time and the trees themselves seem be bursting with an excited aura, the leaves shaking in the wind.

"Jon!" Robb called loudly to the forest, he tugged on his father's cloak wanting him to present Arya to the tree. Ned did, shifting his arms so Arya was visible to the carved face. "Jon! This is Arya! She's my new baby sister, she looks just like you."

He paused, tilting his head to listen and frowned. He looked around, waiting for the trees to rustle, for the wind to speak but nothing happened. Ned stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt Robb's personal ritual.

"Jon!" This time Robb touched the heart tree as he called out. "Jon, please! It's Arya, she's here. She - she -" Tears pricked Robb's eyes when he realized Jon was not here, that his brother wasn't talking to him and he fought to keep them in, an impossible task if there ever was one. Robb couldn't keep them from falling his voice turning to a croak, "She looks like you. I couldn't really remember what you looked like until I saw her. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I forgot! I'm a bad brother. I'm a bad brother!"

"Robb!" Ned rushed to Robb's side, nearly jostling Arya. Arya wailed anyways, feeling her brother's distress. Ned hugged his son the best he could with a baby in his arms. "It's okay, it's okay." He whispered, rubbing Robb's back. "He knows you love him even if you can't remember how he looks. All he wants is for you to be the best big brother you be for Arya. 

"Really?"

"Really."

288

Arya is barely over a year old when her mother gives birth to a boy. Brandon Stark is nothing like his namesake, he comes into the world with not much more than a whimper. He sleeps much of the day away but when he's awake he rarely fusses, he likes cuddling best of all. And he is dark haired but blue of eye, Tully blue to be exact. 

Arya is still small but she loves Bran.

"Ban, ban." Arya babbled as she crawled to her mother, she smiled once she finally reached Cat, proudly showing off her eight pearly white teeth. Robb frowned, he felt a little lost now that Arya wasn't saying his name anymore. He was still her favorite, wasn't he?

Arya pulled herself up. She pressed herself against Bran's head, clinging to his blanket with one hand. She smiled again and tried to kiss Bran's head.

"Mother look at her," Sansa said laughing. She quickly stopped when she realized what Arya was about to do. "Arya!"

Startled Arya's hand fell much harder than intended onto Bran's head, Bran wailed. Arya whined before joining his cries, falling backwards but Robb caught her before she hit the ground.

"Sansa! Why did you do that?" Robb growled, shifting Arya in his small arms and he glared over her head at their other sister.

"She was going to hit him!" Sansa yelled back, red splotches appearing on her cheeks.

"But you yelled at her! She's just a baby."

"Calm down both of you." Cat's stern voice echoed out, silencing her two eldest. "No one needs to yell, nor do you blame each other. Sansa, your brother is right; Arya's still a baby, she's learning." She looked to Robb. "Robb, your sister just wants to protect Bran, she didn't mean to yell. Both of you apologize to each other."

"Sorry." They both mumbled, neither of them looking the least bit unapologetic.

Cat sighed, it would be the best she could get them to do. She looked around for Ned, but only saw Septa Mordane. 

"Where is your father?"

Both Sansa and Robb looked uncomfortable, glancing at each other then back to Cat. Robb tightened his grip on Arya. Arya scowled, she tried thrashing in Robb's arms. She wanted to be put down. 

"In those blasted woods again." Septa Mordane said, her tone cool and polite but her gaze showed something hostile. "That man is servant and practically brother to the king, he lives in the seven kingdoms and yet he still practices that barbaric religion instead of the Seven."

Robb opened his mouth to retort but Arya cried. He adjusted his hold and looked at his mother. Cat wasn't looking at Robb though, her face was pinched and frowning as she stared at the Septa.

"Mother, Arya and I are going to find Father." Robb said excusing himself, Sansa followed. He did not like being on the receiving end of that look, he knew what it meant. It meant no dessert for him no matter how hard he begged Father to change Mother's mind. He wondered what it meant for Septa Mordane.

Inside the room, Cat stared at her faithful companion with tired eyes. The Septa did not weaken under her gaze.

"You will not disrespect my husband's religion in his own home, Septa. It is his right to be able to practice what he wants. There is no true law banning the old religion."

"It is heresy!"

"That is your opinion, Septa." Cat's voice was strained as she tried to reign in her anger. "My lord husband did not have to build me a Sept for me to do my worship. No matter that only you and I are the only two who truly wanted it, no matter how much it left his people disgruntled, he still put resources aside for it. I doubt Brandon would have done the same thing! Ned is trying to make my life here comfortable, and in order to do that, there must be compromise. If you can't stop this foolish attitude, I fear I will have to let you go back to the Riverlands. Do you understand?"

"Yes, milady."

291

"I don't like you! You meanie!" Arya yelled at Theon Greyjoy. There were tears in her eyes as she ran away, dull wooden sword falling from her hand.

"Why did you have to do that! She's only four!" Robb hissed at his friend. It was very rare Robb went against his friend in anything but this was Arya and Robb was overprotective and indulgent to say the least.

"Exactly! She's four and a girl! She shouldn't be touching boy things, it's not right." Theon scowled, he'd been here for nearly four years but he's not used to being the responsible one that was his brothers' job or Yara's. 

"But she's Arya!" Robb exclaimed like it was all he needed to say. Robb picked up the wooden sword, he started walking to Arya's room. Mother wouldn't be happy but it was just a play sword, Arya couldn't hurt herself much with it. He remembers playing with one himself when he was younger.

Meanwhile Arya ran, her lower lip trembling as she fought to keep anymore tears from falling. If she could hate a person with everything in her it would be Theon Greyjoy. He was always ruining her time with Robb, saying that Arya couldn't do this or that just because she was a girl! 

"Girl!"

Arya froze. Carefully she looked around, sniffing her runny nose.

"Over here, girl."

Arya found the voice, it belonged to a balding old man with blackened hands. 

"Who - who are you?"

"Mikken, blacksmith. Now why are you crying?"

Arya trembled under his stern gaze, what if he got mad at her too? Arya tried to look strong and jerked her head up to look him right in the eyes. 

"Theon says girls can't play with swords. But he's wrong and stupid!"

The man - Mikken - guwaffed, his body shook as he laughed. Arya gaped at him, half shocked and half awed. She's never seen a man laugh like that, a deep belly laugh. It was nice.

"You're right about that."

"Which one?"

"Don't matter if you're a girl, you got hands don't you?" Mikken said, Arya looked down at her hand now smudged with dirt. She nodded looking very serious. "Then you can hold a hold a sword."

She grinned, nodding along like she always knew it to be true. 

"Well, girl?"

"Eh?" Arya sheepishly scratched her head, she hadn't been listening.

"A treat, would you like a treat?"

"Please!"

"Smart girl. You remind me of your brother a bit, 'cept he wasn't such a cry baby." Mikken laughed, shaking his head. He took Arya's hand and led her back to the forge. "Wait here a moment."

"Mhmm."

He wasn't gone that long, his hands were clean and he had a small plate of something. Arya took the offered plate and sat on the ground. Something fluttered over her head, covering her vision. Arya grabbed it with one hand, the other covering her treat. She looked and it was a worn blanket, a little v appeared between her brows evidence of her confusion.

"Blanket? Why?" 

"You'll get cold." Mikken said, getting back to work, settling back into a familiar pattern. Arya tugged it around her shoulders, he was right she was getting cold since was a safe distance away from the heat.

"Oh... What's this?" Arya wrinkled her nose and poked at what lay on her plate. She let out a small gasp when the yellow clump melted - wait no, it didn't melt it broke and the sap seeped out.

"Honey. My wife used to keep bees. I do it now...it's okay to eat." 

Skeptical Arya stuck her finger in her mouth, her eyes went wide with surprise. It was honey, but she's never seen it like this.

"Heh. You remind me so much of 'em." Mikken repeated under his breath, unaware Arya had heard him.

"Of who?"

Mikken stopped, he considered his options: tell her the full truth and say she looks like her brother and her aunt or just give a partial lie. 

"Of your brother."

He goes with the easier option. Telling Arya their names would bring questions her father and mother wouldn't be willing or able to answer.

"Robb? Really?" She asked skeptically. Even at a young age Arya could tell she was different from her siblings, it was too obvious. She wasn't the right color, her hair and eyes were like Father's, not red like Mother's or Robb's. She was stubborn, felt her emotions too deeply, liked bending the rules. She was too boy to be a lady but too girl to be a knight. 

It didn't stop her from dreaming.

"Yes."

She doesn't need to know.

292

Arya is five years old when she tried to sneak into the barred room with Abe. She is quickly caught before she can even enter the room. How they managed that she isn't sure, there is no one posted near there and the room itself is locked, only those with a key can open it but Arya had gotten her hands on a key.

"Arya," Mother's stern cadence started, Arya sunk under the weight of Catelyn's voice. "You know very well that you are not supposed to ever go near that room. It is locked for a reason."

"But why?"

"..." Cat paused, how could she admit to her daughter that her half brother had loved and died in that room. "It was a sick room for a very sick little boy. We don't want you getting sick, Arya."

"Cat, would you please leave us?" 

Arya looked up at Father, it was the first time he's spoken since she was brought to his solar. Mother frowned, clearly conveying her dissatisfaction with her eyes before leaving.

"Arya," Father's deep voice called to her, but she didn't look up from her feet. She swung them slowly back and forth, she heard Father rise from his seat and his steps fall on the hard floor until he was standing in her sight. Father crouched down, gently lifting her chin to meet her eye to eye. "Why did you try to go into that room?"

Arya mumbled incoherently, poking her fingers together in nervousness.

"What was it?"

"Abe and the boys said there was a ghost in the room, and that if I wanted to play with them, I had to prove to be tough and not scared like a girl. Ghosts aren't even real anyways. Even if they were I can take of myself." Arya repeated, her fidgeting worsening under Ned's surprised gaze. "I got the key from when you were sleeping and Abe was only going to watch. He didn't do anything, Father! I did it by myself, I swear!"

Ned pulled back, shocked as Arya looked at him with a familiar intensity. It felt like lightning struck him as he looked at his daughter, in that moment she looked much like Lyanna when she defended Howland at Harrenhal.

"Father?"

He sighed, rustling Arya's hair as a way to ease her worrying. "What did they say about the ghost?"

"That it was a sick boy and that he was a Stark."

"That much is true. There was a sick Stark boy here and he died because of it. That place...it's just an empty room now, but going back bring old memories. It makes your brother and I very sad when we talk of it. He was your family Arya. He didn't live very long and I rather you not bring it up to anyone but me. It's a very painful memory for some."

Arya looked at her father, saw tears in his eyes. She grabbed at his face, wincing when she heard the small slaps. "Don't be sad, Father. I'll make you happy! I promise!"

Ned smiled as Arya kissed his forehead.

"Thank you, Arya."

293

"Arya, would you like to hold your new brother?"

Arya looked at Mother frowning, it was another boy. And a boy that looked more like Robb than he did her. Arya pouted, she wanted a girl but not like Sansa wanted a girl. Arya wanted her little sister to be like her, an adventurer not a dumb lady.

Speaking of dumb ladies, here came Sansa and Jeyne Poole holding their skirts up to avoid muddying the hem on the mud Arya had unintentionally tracked in. Arya scowled, sticking her tongue out at the same time. 

"Mother! Arya's doing it again!" Sansa whined, her voice grating on Arya's nerves.

"Arya..." Mother warned. "Well? Would you like to?"

"No! I don't want to hold a smelly baby." 

"Always rude, it's a wonder Bran even likes you. You were mean to him too when he was a baby." Sansa drawled, a little smile on her face as she watched Arya flush and squirm. Arya curled in on herself, she tried to hold in her anger. But it was very hard when Sansa spoke like that but Mother said she would take back every pair of Bran and Robb's pants that Arya stole, and force her to only wear dresses if she acted out against Sansa again.

Arya couldn't take it anymore, she got up and stomped out of the room, letting the door slam behind her. Cat shot Sansa a tired look.

"Must you provoke her? You are her sister Sansa."

"Some lady you are." Bran mumbled, playing with his stuffed wolf. He bobbled the creature up and down there bed. Sansa flushed, she was not used to being scolded after all she was Mother's favorite.

"Where could she have gone?"

Bran shrugged, Arya's business was Arya's business. He didn't like following her to the Godswoods, Father said Bran wasn't allowed to climb there, even Bran thought they wouldn't mind. Instead he often climbed the towers nearby much to Mother's annoyance.

Arya had not gone very far, she had gotten sidetracked when she saw a pair of visitors. Quietly Arya crept after the hooded women, unaware that one of the woman was perfectly able to hear her loud steps. The women knew their way around Winterfell, they would occasionally pause and lean to each other saying things Arya was too far to hear as well managing to avoid servants, Theon and Arya's family. They finally stopped, both hesitating at the entrance.

"Your steps will need to be quicker if you don't want to be left in the darkness, little wolf." A husky voice said, she sounded amused.

Arya jumped, she looked around at first and saw no one else, so one of them must be talking to her.

"Who are you? This is the home of the Starks, show yourselves!" Arya said, but her voice quavered as she realized the gravity of the situation. Here were a pair of strangers, intruders for all Arya knew and here Arya was with no weapon nor help nearby.

One of the women laughed silently, or rather Arya guessed she was laughing. All she could see was a body shaking. Brown hands reached up to pull away the dark cloak. Arya took a step back at what she saw.

"Nymeria..." Arya whispered in awe. This woman looked much like how Arya pictured the warrior queen from Dorne.

"It looks like you have a fan, Amira." The other woman said, her hood fell back when she shook her head in amusement. She on the other hand, looked very Northern. She looked as if she always fit in here.

"Oh hush, I think it's sweet. Nymeria was a fierce general, if anything it's the highest compliment anyone has ever paid me."

Arya took a good look at these women, trying to judge if they were like the villains of her tales. Their clothes were fine, if a little thin for the weather. The brown skinned one, Amira had kind eyes with little wrinkles near the corners of her eyes and mouth. Father once said that it showed a person's happiness. The other one's eyes were more careful, almost caged but there was clear affection between the women.

"Who are you?" Arya repeated.

"I am Amira." She curtsied to the little lady. "And this is my dear friend Yue. We are friends of your father, we were merely visiting the crypts before we see him...there is someone important we need to see...it's been ten years." She said quietly, the joy slipping from her face. Arya felt guilt thread through her body, she felt bad for making a stranger feel sad.

"Can I come? I can help!" Arya offered, trying to make up for her blunder. If these were Father's guests it would do no good to insult them. The women glanced at each other, Yue shrugged as if to say your choice. Amira sighed. 

"But you must stay close, it's dark in there."

"I promise." Arya swore while holding out her pinky, amused Amira hooked her own to Arya's. 

The three walked quietly through the crypts, Arya saw all the statues and coffins lining the crypt. The deeper they went in the colder it got, Arya rubbed her arms for warmth when Yue pulled Arya to her side, gesturing for the girl to take hold of the cloak. Arya kept it tugged as close as she could without tripping up Yue.

"Who are we visiting?"

"An old friend and her son."

"..." Arya knew it was nice or appropriate but she asked, "How did she die?"

"She was spirited away."

"What does that mean? Did a monster take her?"

"Some would say that," Amira muttered under her breath. Arya looked at Amira confused. Amira smiled at her but it was a brittle one. "It was war that took her."

"But we won, the good guys always win."

"Heh," Yue scoffed, the torch in her hand wavering. "This isn't a story girl, there is no such thing as good in a war. Too many lives are lost and affected long after the war is done. Never forget that."

Arya nodded, trying to look sagely but confusion was still on her face. Finally they stopped in front of a woman's grave, Amira knelt and pressed her forehead to the statue's lap.

"Lyanna, forgive me."

Yue unhooked her cloak from her shoulders and wrapped Arya in it. She lit the two torches that were nearby before finding an empty holder and putting hers in it. Once her hands were free, she laid one on Amira's shoulder.

"You know she already has. We did our best, somethings are just the will of the Gods."

"But I should have done more."

Arya fidgeted, unsure if she was really welcomed here with them. She looked at the statue, more than a little in awe of it. She's seen the other statues, it's obvious this is better made and out of a different material. It was more detailed, Arya felt like it could come to life again. The closer she looked the more familiar it looked.

"She looks like Uncle Benjen. They have the same face, cept she's prettier."

Both women startled, they had temporarily forgotten the other occupant. Yue looked at Lyanna's grave, she had seen Benjen Stark only two or three times before but she had to admit she saw the similarities.

"She also looks like you." Amira said kindly, her brown eyes glowing with warmth. "She was crowned Queen of Beauty and Love before."

Arya flushed, "I'm not pretty, Sansa is. I'm just Arya Underfoot. I'm not pretty."

"Fools can't see your potential."

"Huh? But I don't want to be pretty, if I'm pretty I can't fight. Mother will make me marry a stupid boy and have babies. I want to be like Nymeria or Visenya! They were warriors!"

"Who says you can't be both? All the tales talk of their great beauty as well as their strengths, even your Aunt Lyanna was much like that. So tell me Arya Stark, why can't you?"

Arya stared at her dumbfounded. How could she reply to such a question? So she changed the topic.

"And where is the son?" Arya looked around, wondering which statue belonged to Aunt Lyanna's son.

"There's no statue for him. He's over here...We had to burn his body. We didn't want the disease to spread, he had the worst case of it." Yue said softly while pointing to a stone coffin, a pained look flashing over her face before it settled into something sad. "He would have turned twelve next month.'"

"What was he like? Is he like Robb?" Arya asked unaware that they barely knew Robb.

"When they were younger and one of us visited, I would say yes. He could be a happy child but most times he had to be careful and quiet...out of sight if I was honest. There were people here that weren't...happy he was here." Yue paused, this wasn't what Arya was asking, she probably wanted more than vague answers. "He liked bees. And sword fighting, he could've been amazing if he had training. He looked like Benjen, true Stark looks that boy. His father would have struggled to see any of his features in him."

"What was his name?"

".. I think it's time for us to see your father." Amira said, her gaze flickering Yue's. It didn't matter whose name Arya was asking, they would not share it. "Come now."

"But!"

"We can visit again before we leave. I think we have stalled long enough."

Arya wilted, she wanted to hear more about Aunt Lyanna, she's heard the story from Old Nan only once before Father forbade Nan to never tell the story again. Whenever Uncle Benjen and Father talked about their family they glossed over Aunt Lyanna, Arya hadn't even know Aunt Lyanna had a son.

"Arya, I want you to swear you will never tell anyone what you heard." Yue ordered, her face stern as she stared down at the six year old. Arya could see the entrance from here, their steps had been much quicker returning than arriving. 

"But why?"

"Sometimes we keep secrets to avoid hurting those we love and what you just learned could really hurt people. Do you want that?"

Arya shook her head 'no'. Yue smiled and it was like the sun peeked through thunderous clouds. Arya blushed, her hands touching her heated face. 

"Good, now could you give this to your father. He'll know where to find us."

Arya nodded taking the letter in her hand and running off before Yue could say much more. Her cheeks still burned, it only pushed Arya to go faster. She ran unaware that the cloak had fallen behind her, dodging people here and there till she found her way up to Father's solar.

"Father!" Arya shouts bursting in, causing Steward Poole to drop all his papers. Father shot her a frustrated look as he stood to help. Arya hopped in place, waving the letter around like one would a flag. "I got a letter for you! It's important!"

"And who gave you this letter?" Ned asked taking the letter from Arya's hand. There was no seal, no discernible markings or anything. He worried who was near Arya and if he had to send guards out after these intruders.

"They said they were friends and that you would know where to find them them after you read it."

Ned stiffened as he read the words, the hand writing very familiar. _We need to talk._

"Vayon, we'll be continuing this later. There is important business I need to attend to."

"Father can I -?"

"No, Arya. You need to do lessons with Maester Luwin."

Arya frowned, she wanted to follow but she knew Father would get mad. Father had given them yesterday and today off from lessons so they could spend time with Mother now that she was done having the baby. How could he forget that?

-

"My daughter?! Really you two?"

"She was sweet, no harm was brought to her. And she looks a lot like Jon. It must have pained your wife when she first saw her." Amira said with a laugh. She sighed wistfully, laying her hand on her cheek. "To have seen her face would have been amusing."

"There is no need to be cruel." Ned grumbled, looking at the two women who looked perfectly at ease with their surroundings despite the still figures around them.

"I would say the same thing about your wife's treatment of Jon but that would change nothing. It is far too late for that." Yue said in a brusque manner. 

"What exactly do you need to tell me? It has to be important, why else would you make the journey here."

Amira rose, dusting off her skirt. "I had a very important question for, now I wonder if I should even bother to voice it. It would bring trouble that you obviously don't need."

Ned stepped closer, wanting to keep the conversation as quiet as he could. "What is it?"

"Do you think you can handle it?" Yue asked, she was reluctant to bring Amira to Winterfell if Ned wasn't going to join them. "You no longer have the threat of treason hanging over your head. You would risk bring it back."

"I swear by the Old Gods and the New, I will hear what you say and promise to stay silent if I oppose your plans. No one will know."

"What would you do if I said there was another of the Targaryen line still surviving." Amira said quietly, she looked down at her hands. Could she trust him with the full truth or would it just break him?

Ned frowned, who could have survived? If it was former Queen Rhaella, they would've known of a silver haired woman traveling with the former royal children. Ned himself had seen Rhaegar's body and guarded it from Robert's attempts to desecrated it. He had seen Aerys' body at the foot of the throne, a shocked Jaime Lannister sitting on the Iron Throne. He'd seen the bodies of Rhaenys and Aegon lain in front of Robert's feet by Lannister men.

"Who? How?"

"Targaryen supporters, those who saw the what Aerys was doing and had plans set for things like this." Amira explained. "We had doubles for the children, the plan was to smuggle them out and leave behind the decoys. It's awful, I know but with how Aerys was it was good to have these plans ready."

"So Rhaegar's eldest escaped too."

"No, actually only one... it is merely a rumor, but it comes from a reliable source...but if it were true would you support their claim to the throne? Could you handle having an unknown on the throne or would you rather let the current council try and fail to control Robert from driving us into ruin? "

Ned frowned, he knew that Robert was king in name, Jon Arryn did everything for the man while Robert went out whoring, hunting and drinking. He thought a crown and marriage would have settled his friend down but Robert had not changed much since their boyhood. Ned thought of Robert's many bastards spread through the land including one Mya Stone.

But then he remembered what they said about Viserys the beggar king.

"If you plan to put Viserys back on the throne, you will not have my support. He is as mad as his father."

Yue laughed, her voice then fell to a hush that Ned strained to hear. "Who said we were putting Viserys on the throne?"

"There were only two people who had better claims to the throne than Viserys and one of them has been dead for ten years."

"Stop with your secrets, who is it?"

Amira leaned in close, a grin on her face, "Aegon Targaryen."

297

Arya woke from her dream panicked. She glanced around the room hoping it had all been a dream that Winterfell never burned. She fell out of her bed, dragging her furs down with her. She grabbed the closest one and stood, she slipped on her slippers and ran out her door.

"Arya!" Sansa shouted, sounding rather scandalized. Arya was wearing only her shift and a fur as she ran past her. Arya hoped Father was still in his room or at least his solar.

She was panting by the time she reached her father's room, still winded from her nightmare. Arya knocked on Father's door, hopping in place as she waited for answer. She wasn't going to barge into the room again, she did that one time too many.

"Come in."

Arya rushed into Father's arms, feeling his arms embraced her she began to bawl. Her breaths became hitched as her cries grew louder. She felt herself get hefted up, her arms and legs automatically wrapped themselves around Father. 

"What's wrong? Arya, are you hurt?"

It took a while but his hand rubbing along the line of her spine, eased her cries to a soft wheezing.

"I - I had a bad dream. I had you and Sansa but something happened and... Sansa was gone and I was all alone. And you were dead, and so were Mother and Robb. I couldn't find Rickon or Bran. I cried for you but you never came." Arya buried her head into his neck, her body shaking again. "Every where I went, there were monsters all around me. Lions prowling and stags dying, roses overgrowing and choking out everything."

Ned stiffened, he remembered last time he heard a dream like this. Benjen had woken up sobbing only a few months before Lyanna disappeared. He dreamt of wolves dying alone and among the flames, of dragons being slaughtered by lions and another being impaled by a stag, and the stars falling. It wasn't until years later did he realize what Benjen had dreamed came true. 

Starks died, Lyanna alone and Father & Brandon by Aerys' mad obsession with flames. Aerys, Rhaenys and Aegon were killed by Lannisters and their men. Rhaegar was killed by Robert. The Daynes...two of their stars went out within a week of each other.

Even now Ned is unsure if it was merely a coincidence or if his brother had a touch of greensight. Was that the true reason why Benjen left? Could it be Arya had it as well or was this a warning from the Gods to push him to decide? He would send for Howland, his friend would be a better council for these matters. He had told Amira and Yue he would think on it, and they assured him it would take years before the Targaryens would make their move. 

But by their expressions, they seemed to think it wouldn't be long before one of them would make their move. Ned had been thinking on it for a long time, he thought of the houses he could trust with this knowledge because he couldn't rally behind a Targaryen and expect his bannermen to automatically follow him. He already knew who he had to watch out for, and who would always be by his side, he knew which houses would need a more pragmatic argument to do it. 

And then he thought of Robert of the pain this would cause his friend but Robert had never been one suited for responsibility. He never cared for the consequences that came of his lifestyle; not the children he left behind, the alliances he ruined, or the debt he dug himself in. He was not fit to be Lord of the Stormlands let alone the whole seven kingdoms. Ned wished he had realized this when they were fighting for the crown but he had been more concerned about avenging his family and bringing Lyanna back. He fought to better the kingdom, not for Robert to leave his duties to Jon Arryn nor for the Lannisters to have power of their king.

Ned had no idea what sort of person Aegon Targaryen was like but under the right care he could learn and grow to better Westeros. Robert was old and set in his way, to follow him would leave Ned's family to ruin. Arya's dream was the final push for him to support the boy king. If he wanted to keep them safe and together, he'd have to build support and strengthen the North, prepare them for another war that would come no matter what side they were on. 

"Father?" Arya expected him to say something soon after, his silence worried her. She hadn't seen him this serious since the visitors came a few years ago.

"I'll keep you safe, Arya. Winter is coming but we will endure."

Arya frowned, she was never sure what the words meant but she felt safer hearing Father say that. She squeezed him tight and kissed his cheek, giggling when his beard tickled her skin.

"Can we go back to bed, Father? I don't want to go down yet."

"Just a little longer."

-

Ned watched his daughter from his solar window, Arya and Bran were trying to be sneaky and play away from the training yard but Ned could always recognize the sound of wooden swords clacking together. For a brief moment he saw himself, Benjen, Lyanna and Hodor in the training yard, playing around with their swords. He was glad Arya no longer held the dark dredges of her nightmare clinging to her. 

It was obvious how happy she was to be training with her brother even if it was in secret. She was quick on her feet, dodging Bran's sword and striking from behind. Bran cried out as he fell but he held no ill will for his sister. Rickon had cheered loudly, clapping his hands and gestured for Arya to come for her prize. All of them were much too big for the old wooden horses but they still loved it. Arya dance around the white horse, crowing her victory to the heavens.

How he wished he could let her do as she wanted and train with Robb, but Cat would never allow it. Even Ned had to admit he worried over Arya getting hurt by the rougher style the North fought with. She was not built for it, she wasn't like the Mormont women with their hardy frames that were evident from a young age. He would need to find a style that would suit her.

But that would have to wait, today he needed to find someone willing to brave the Cronnag to deliver his message to Howland. He would need his closest ally at his side. There was much they needed to discuss before he could consider hosting his bannermen and bringing the most loyal to this inner circle.

He looked down at his letter once more, he hoped he was walking the right path.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally there was more to chapter 9 but then I was like nah I'm going to split it into three, give each one it's own focus. One third in the Wolfswoods, another in King's Landing and the last third set in Winterfell/Wolfswoods. They're all kinda short as a result. This chapter is from animal povs but let's pretend they can see colors (cause I forgot like a dummy that they can't see reds). Also like a big dummy I thought I posted before bed when really I just saved it to drafts and never bothered to check.

i. Alpha-Mother

The woods down south are warmer, a mercy to a weary mother to be. If she were still up North she would have trouble finding a safe shelter from the snow flurries or hunt comfortably with the new weight in her belly. She will be mother soon, she must find a good shelter where she can hide her pips while she hunts. Alpha-Brother-Mate died nearly two moons turns before, a fight for dominance between Alpha-Brother-Mate & Brother-Usurper resulted in his death. And she, unwilling to submit to Brother-Usurper, left with her muzzle bloodied and her belly growing heavy as she slipped through holes in man-ice-wall and travelled down, down, down until she felt too slow.

The days were now long and dark, the air now had a cold bite that tried to seep into her bones, the scent of snow and pine filling her nose, the crunch of snow and foliage under her paws her only welcome. She is tired and hungry, she pauses when she hears the babble of a stream, her hair is fast as she lopes toward it. The first water she's tasted that doesn't have the dredges of muck making the majority. 

Alpha-Mother has walked too long, there are no caves here, the ground grown hard the cold deepens. But this place will have to do for her den. This riverbank was not a true den, even with the incline it could not properly shield her and her pups from enemy predators or small cousins nor from the harsh weather that would come. Though she struggles and the pups wriggle inside her, she dug out a large enough hole for her to curl up under. They will come soon and she needs rest. She will hunt once she has birthed her litter.

The days grew short and while Alpha-Mother did not leave her den very often, she was always able to find prey and bring it back to eat whether it was the small chittering squirrels, the frightful rabbits, or on one occasion a sneaky fox trying to steal her cornered prey. She can hear her cousins near by, can hear their calls but pays them no mind. They are too cowardly to make a move, even so at her worst - even with pups making a fuss in her belly - she is still stronger and faster than them. It would be foolish to try.

A part of her longs to make a new pack with the cousins, having them hunt for her while she sticks to her young until her pups have grown enough, running and yapping around her legs. Yet another part knows she will be alone for this, any idea to form a new pack will need to wait, she was always going to be alone for birth. She stretches, pain blooming low in her body and she hunched over trying to get more comfortable. It won't be long now.

Alpha-Mother was right. She laid on her side for a while as the pain continued until she felt the urge to crouch and push. With a quiet howl, she pushed, a small red fleshy sack slipping from her body. Gently she bit through it, taking any bit of it from her pup. As she licked it to encourage breathing, she took in its scent. It was a soft masculine scent, it filled her with warmth to know she could have given Alpha-Brother-Mate a male. The rest of the births came easy, much faster.

Her oldest male was dark furred, various shades of deep dark browns, he pawed at her belly while he waited for his litter mates. The next male was shades of gray, he whimpered searching for a moment before hungrily latching onto one of her teats. The third male looked much like one of the females, both their furs were lighter browns and creams, they pressed their tiny bodies to her own large form. Her other female was pale grey, she was loud with her whining and grunting. Though it was her youngest, pale as snow, who worried her; he was silent even as he suckled from her. He was the runt, she did not expect him to live long but it was mercy that kept her from dragging him away from his litter mates. 

It took her a week to regain her strength, her only meal made up of fleshy birth sacks not really filling but it was enough to let her keeping making milk. With a stretch and a yawn, Alpha-Mother left her little den, nipping her pups when they blindly tried to follow her warmth. She knew it was instinctive but she was hungry and unwilling to devour the runt. If she ate one, she may start eating them all.

The hunt was good, her limbs ached from disuse but her body always knew what to do. It was easy to track her prey, a little challenging to kill with how slow she felt but she otherwise managed to drag her kill near her den. Her belly was full for the next few nights. 

By the end of the second week, the pups eyes began to open. She had reared back violently. The runt, he had eyes as red as life blood. An abomination, she kept an abomination alive, fed him from her own teat instead of killing him as nature would. Her muzzle pulled back ready to snarl yet she stopped, she did not want him near her pups but she did not want to kill him. With little gentleness, she picked him up by his scruff, his siblings whining and barking in protest while she left their den and hid him a length away.

i. Runt

Runt shivered Alpha-Mother had left him alone, away from warmth-comfort-home. Darkness was surrounding him, at every sound he whimpered and flinched, he did not have the safety of warmth-comfort-home anymore. His little bladder was full and he couldn't go without Alpha-Mother, his body shook worse as it tried to keep it in.

He couldn't.

Runt soiled himself, yelping at the force and the strangeness of doing it without Alpha-Mother helping. He didn't feel that tightness pressing against his bladder, in fact all he felt was empty...hungry. He whined and barked hoping Alpha-Mother would come back.

He strained to hear his litter mates or Alpha-Mother, he heard nothing but a strange word. A comforting sound amongst the dark and loneliness. It repeated over and over, much like a heartbeat.

Are-Yuh. 

Are-Yuh.

Are-Yuh. 

Are-Yuh. 

Arya.

Runt did not know who or what that was, all he knew was it brought a warmth to his cold body. He repeated the the sound over and over. He left, going away from his mess and settled not far from where Alpha-Mother left him. With a soft bark, he rested his head down on his paws, morning would come and he could try finding Alpha-Mother & his litter mates.

ii. Alpha-Mother

When early morning came, her stomach growls. It has been too long since she had a filling meal, she must be strong enough now to hunt after larger prey. She stands, her pups now used to her absences merely huddle together with each other. Her cubs were smart, they adapted to survive. She leaves the den, happy that the cold hasn't worsened, snow would make hunting harder once her pups joined her.

She stalks past where she left the runt last night, she sees him curled against a large boulder. Whether he is alive she does not care to know, she has let him live long enough. She lopes away from the riverbank, up the rocky hill to where the land was flat and worn from man. She raised her nose to the air and inhaled, there was nothing in the air. Not even day old scents lingered, the forest was uneasily quiet. The only noise Alpha-Mother could hear was the babbling brook. 

Alpha-Mother shakes her body, ignoring the bad feeling in her body. She was hungry, she was making enough milk for the pups. She walked deep into the woods, until she finally caught a scent. Her mouth watered as she realized what it was. 

A stag. 

A worthy and filling meal.

She stalks, finding it not far from her current location. She cracks a branch under her paw, her prey freezes then bolts. Her mouth pulls back into a grin, baring her teeth as she chases him towards the man-road. She gets close enough to land a few scratches. She was already pouncing, mouth open and ready to sink in when it suddenly changed direction.

He reared back, rising on his hind legs and struck with his hooves. Alpha-Mother pulled back, muzzle wet with her own blood. It tried to dominate her, he managed to get close enough to tear at her ear. Instead of falling back again, she circled him and then dove to claw his belly. She turned just as she heard the slick sound of organs hitting the ground.

Alpha-Mother choked, her throat speared by large horns. Impossible! How? It should be in pain, unable to move. She tried kicking off the slumped body but the horns would not give. She hunched over, ignoring the increase of pain as the horns went further into her. She bit and clawed until she heard it snap off.

She dragged herself and the horn away from the man-road, dripping blood from her wounds. Her world started to blur and darkened. Her steps were unsteady as she went down moss covered rocks. She faltered, the crossroads one way would bring her back to her cubs, her healthy litter and the other...the other would bring her to the runt. He must be dead by now.

She couldn't move one more step, her body was sluggish and slow, all she could hear was her own heartbeat in her ears. She slumped to the ground, blood slowly pooling under her. She heard a soft whimper, bleary eyed she looked and saw white coming towards her. At first she thought it was her girl but he was pure white and red eyed. 

Runt.

She tried to growl, try to scare him away but he came close not caring that she was bleeding. He buried his nose against her fur, finding a teat, pawing and sucking. She's dying and all he wants is food. It served her right, she abandoned him and he treated her last moments like this.

Her eyes closed, she could barely see anyways. Alpha-Mother wheezed, opening her eyes when she felt something wet touch her face. She saw Runt, licking her wounds and he finally made a sound. 

A soft whine.

Alpha-Mother huffed, a soft bark leaving her. Her last action in this world.

i. Pups

Alpha-Mother has not returned. Their bellies are growling, they nudged each other and tried to play to stave off hunger. The sun climbed the sky, the clouds came out and covered it, they knew it was time to feed but still Alpha-Mother did not return. They eyed each other warily now.

Where was Alpha-Mother?

Should they leave?

Should they go find her?

It was the dark furred one, the oldest male who took the lead. The grey pair followed never ones for being left behind. The cream colored ones glanced at each other then at the backs of their litter mates. The female did not want to leave, this was warmth-comfort-home. It was not safe out there for her. They could only go out once Alpha-Mother allowed it. The male started to leave, looking back at his sister when she whimpered. He gestured for her to follow, not once looking back at her. 

The female stamped her paws, but reluctantly came along. Already she could hear her siblings barking. The pair rushed to their siblings, finding they with Alpha-Mother but she did not greet them. She did not rise from her slumped position. They crowded around her, pressing their snouts to her teats, her body cooler than before and still. All their pawing and their barks did not rouse Alpha-Mother. 

They settled against her body, the truth there in their minds but they did not want to admit it. Alpha-Mother had been their only chance for survival. What could they do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating whether I should take care of the Lannisters when they visit so I can focus on the Targaryens or should I keep them? Leave a comment on your choice and maybe it'll help me choose.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know I feel bad for Jon Arryn, he has an awful wife and probably had fertility issues his whole life resulting in a weak son. But at the same time, I want to yell at him, this is the guy considered wise and cunning, who is holding the kingdom together after winning the war. Yet he's being so obvious about what he's doing!! I get its for plots sake but you're honestly telling me that he would be so obvious? Anyways sorry this is late, I rewrote this like twenty times while taking care of four sick kids, it was awful until i finally found the path... It still feels choppy and information overload tbh and Korrin took a bigger role than she was meant to but oh well she gave me a reason to keep Jon Arryn alive and for the Lannisters to get their due. Happy holidays, it's still Christmas here for like another three minutes so Feliz Navidad mi amigos.

Lannisport

"Are you sure you won't join me in King's Landing? I'm sure he would rather hear it from your mouth rather than mine." Korrin said voice filled with dread. Korrin did not want to meet with the benefactor, it had been too many years and they had not parted on good terms. She wasn't even supposed to be in Lannisport, her division was primarily the Crownlands, sometimes the Stormlands if they were spread thin. But this assignment required more discretion than her father had ever given anything else, she to come herself. Her father had already laid the groundwork but a more urgent assignment came up in Essos. Honestly the man was pushing his sixties, he should be relaxing not gallivanting off to Pentos. "Surely you wouldn't want him to question your reliability, do you Father?"

Her father let out a throaty chuckle, shaking his head as pushed back Korrin's dark hair back. Korrin frowned, adjusting her scarf until it covered her hair again. Still, her nerves had her playing with the excess material as she tried to change her father's mind. 

While Korrin had been slowly but surely replacing him as head, no longer tip toeing with trepidation as she did as acting head. She didn't want to be head, a spy would be the better choice of the two for her. She did not mind the foot work, it was less stressful she did not have so many people relying on her as they did now. In all honesty Kore never wanted to be a spy, let alone one of the many heads of a spy organization. She had been satisfied serving House Arryn like her mother before her, she had not been born with her father's wanderlust. 

But unfortunately, Lysa Tully saw her as a threat for Lord Arryn's affection; that was something that baffled Korrin. Unless Lysa Tully was seeking a father figure, she would have no competition for Lord Arryn's romantic affection. Lord Arryn had been more of a father than Korrin's own father had been, Korrin had served him from her seventh year till her twenty fifth. She began just serving meals but quickly started delivering reports to and fro until he had her scribing. While her mother had already taught her her numbers, Korrin learned to read and write properly with Lord Arryn and his Steward. 

When she asked why her, he replied that it was nice to have someone interested in his work since all his squires and wards were more interested in weapons training that the aging Lord couldn't always do. She didn't really have the heart to tell him she had no interest in this, so she continued working. Every morning, she would wake eat her own breakfast before getting Lord Arryn's and starting on her latest pile of work. She had grown accustomed to hearing the soft scratch of a quill, the occasional interruptions and the quiet conversation that often lapsed into a comfortable silence.

So of course when she discovered she was being fired because of a jealous sixteen year old, it came more as a shock than it should have. Lord Arryn didn't want any conflicts, he had to let Korrin go but he found her a nice position in his sister's household as well as paying her for years of service. It was a position that Korrin didn't want, she had done nothing wrong. To treat her as such made her angry and instead of going for House Waynwood, she left. 

She originally thought of finding a new house to serve perhaps in the Riverlands but every time she thought of doing so anger surged through her. So instead she left to find her father, a man she only vaguely remembered and found him through the Many Mothers. She learned of the communications network turned information network, no one ever paid much attention to the nomadic clan so it became easy to do it right under their noses. She began working with him, learning everything she could.

She already knew how to stay quiet and observe people from Lord Arryn. But Father and his network, they taught her to keep her steps silent, how to slip from disguise to disguise, to shift herself into the right personality for each person. The honor she had learned to value under Lord Arryn's teachings, had slowly diminished under theirs. She did things no woman of decent upbringing would do; the words of House Arryn flashing in her mind any time she laid herself bare or took a life, they caused a burning sensation in her belly that turned to bile. Korrin feared if she saw Lord Arryn again, he would see how dishonorable she had become.

As if reading her mind, her father spoke. "There is no shame in what you do. He tries to shame you for what you do, leave. Don't bother telling him anything, remember he came to us first. If he thinks you lack honor, then tell me where is his?"

His ship would be leaving soon, she half-heartedly attempts to convince him to stay but she has already said her goodbyes. She smiled at her father, hugging him once more before letting him leave. Korrin adjusted her scarf once more before disappearing into the throng of people heading towards the market.

She had another meeting. Korrin had already confirmed the rumor involving Cersei and twin babes. Thea hadn't want to dredge up old memories but after careful prodding Thea admitted she had slept with the king multiple times, she could even describe the unique birthmark on his inner thigh. The babes were both boys, black of hair and blue of eye... Baratheon blue to be exact. Cersei had Thea's babes drowned before they were even a week old.

Korrin played tourist, her dark freckled skin and white facial paint added to her act. There were no tribes or clans that dressed like she did; most Westerosi assumed she was Dornish or from Essos, she never corrected them. If anything was ever traced to her, people would only remember a strange foreigner. When she asked for a place to clean herself, they recommended the local inn as well as the bathhouse. 

She followed the directions, already knowing the way. She paid the girl in the front of the bathhouse, asking for a maid to come help her groom. Korrin mentioned Violet by name, saying a friend recommended her services. It was a gamble, while this was Violet's usual work shift, there were only three other women working at the moment. There was no guarantee she would get Violet.

Korrin stripped herself bare, cleaning makeup off her freckled face before touching the steaming water with a hand. It was comfortable enough to get in. She sunk in, playing with the lavender and jasmine petals while she waited.

"You asked for assistance, milady?"

Korrin looked behind her, Violet was a woman stooped with age but had a prescribe that made her seem bigger than she was. There was a Lannister look to her but then again Lannisport was filled to the brim with Lannisters, their cousins and the like. Korrin rose petals sticking to her skin, tilting her head and looking down her nose at Violet. Violet stood firm under Korrin's scrutinizing gaze. 

"Ah, yes. You are just the person I need to talk to."

-

King's Landing

Jon Arryn was very tired, his bones ached and his belly was empty. Another late day of work, of checking over document and sending out orders. It was infuriating that he could barely manage to even sleep, while Robert was off whoring and drinking. The man didn't even bother with coming for even an hour now. Jon sighed rubbing his temples, some days he really regrets letting Robert of all people lay claim to the throne. He had known how irresponsible the man had been in his youth, it had been a hopeful thought that the crown would mature Robert that let Jon allow it. Gods how he wishes he could go back, stop it from happening and installing Ned on the throne. Even with his bastard child, Ned was the better choice. Not that the man would have ever taken what Robert considered his birthright away.

Perhaps there was a fault in having too much honor.

"Would you like a glass of wine, Lord Arryn? Your lady wife sent a new casket of wine for you." His cupbearer politely asked, he hoped Lord Arryn would say no. The poor boy was working nearly as hard his Lord, officially his duty was to serve drinks to Lord Arryn but more and more of his time was spent running around like an errand boy, fetching tombs and the like for the aging man. Honestly Jon relied more on Gareth than he did his squire, Hugh.

"Please, Gareth. If you could just fetch me something to eat it would be much appreciated. Your duties shall be done for the night right after that." Jon said, waving off the boy. Gareth nodded, pouring Lord Arryn a glass of Arbor Gold before leaving the room with a much lighter step. Korrin took that moment to enter Lord Arryn's chamber, a slight frown appearing on her face as she watch Lord Arryn reach for the glass.

Jon was about to lift the goblet to his mouth, when a dark hand covered it.

"I really do wish you would get a food taster or use silver like those rulers in Essos, if only to ease my fear of Robert actually having to rule if something were to happen to you." The woman said with an amused smile but the somber look in her eyes spoke of truth. Lord Arryn looked up at Korrin for a split second before finishing this last page. As much as he wanted to dismiss her so he could finish his work, perhaps scheduling a meeting for tomorrow, he needed to hear what she gathered. 

He opened his mouth, but he paused and frowned as he took in her appearance. Her appearance had changed greatly from when he last saw her. Her hair, now black as coal, was pulled back with a leather tie, she wore men's clothing. If he didn't recognize her face after watching her grow over the years, he could have very easily mistaken her for a girlish man. Her androgynous features helped her pass well enough, Ser Loras had similar issues, often mistaken for a lovely lass than a man. As much as he would like to ask why she was wearing such clothing, he wanted to get to the heart of the matter. He was wasting enough time talking about wine.

"I've never needed a taster in my years before being the King's Hand and I never needed one after. You know that fact very well. I am not the king, only the King's Hand." Jon groused, lifting her hand away from his cup and rose the cup to his lips.

"But that is my point! You are the Hand, the shadow ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, some would even say the true ruler." Korrin scolded, taking the cup away from him and twirling the stem between her fingers before she sat down. "There is a lot that you didn't know or notice. I served you for years, I saw how Lady Rowena worried for you so badly that she hired a tester behind your back."

She regretted admitting Lady Rowena's secret when she saw the way Lord Arryn folded into himself. While the two Arryns hadn't been in love with each other, it was obvious to anyone who knew them that they cared for each other.

"Do not spread falsehoods, even within these walls." Jon said slowly, trying to keep his emotions from overwhelming him.

"They are not falsehoods." Korrin gently replied. "While I can't say the kingdom has prospered, it certainly hasn't fallen to ruin as it would if Robert was actually in control. As if he hasn't already been trying."

"Korrin, if you would be so kind as to return my glass? It has been a tiring day, I do need it. If it worries you so much hire one for me but today I will have my wine."

"Who sent this wine?" She asked, not even considering giving it back. A pensive look on her face as she sniffed the wine. It didn't smell different, she fiddled with her bag, searching for Lord Arryn's gift, only to realize it was still in her room. "Was it your wife?"

"Of course, it was Lysa. Why would you even need to ask?"

"I also heard some rather nasty whispers that stopped before I left King's Landing, it seems you were getting too close to something better left in the dark. It was a good thing you found my father when you did. Who knows what would have happened if you continued on your own..." She pauses as if only now realizing she went off tangent but everything she says has a purpose. "Did you know she was meeting with Littlefinger? In his whore house, many times and even bringing Sweetrobin along with her. On one of her visits, she left with a casket of wine, likely this same wine we have here. If he suspects something, if the rumors were true and he was part of them, then he could very well be trying to take you out. If I'm honest, I would not trust anything given by Littlefinger. Nasty little worm, he uses people so long as they're useful and disposes them when he's done. If it weren't for the fact that she is your wife - _the Hand's wife_ \- she would be of no use to him anymore.

"And really, if there was one man I could wish dead it would be him. One of my spies once tailed a client of his and ended up rescuing a prostitute from being killed by said client, it was just one of his many illicit offered services." Korrin spat, her nose wrinkling in disgust while she debates drinking the wine. Korrin had her half sister watch Lysa; Ana never sent a raven much too paranoid, instead she kept a list that she handed to Korrin in person. Korrin's protective nature flared when she first heard the threats against Lord Arryn, it flared again when she heard Baelish may be involved.

Jon scowled, he rose already forgetting about the wine and the reports, he needed to deal with Lysa. How could Lysa allow their son, their only son near Littlefinger and his establishments?! She had begged him to give Baelish a position in court, originally he had been impressed with how ambitious and shrew the man was but whenever he had the chance to review expense report his stomach sinks at how large the debt has grown in the short time Baelish took control. Lysa had begged to return to King's Landing after she had given birth despite the Maester's warnings. Jon knew she still loved Baelish and thought it would be enough for her to be near him as a friend in the court. But here she was stopping him from sending Robin to Ned or Stannis for fostering, yet she was involving their boy in her indiscretions.

"Calm down milord, too much anger is not good for the heart. We may as well review my repo-" Korrin didn't get a chance to finish, Gareth had returned. 

"I'm sorry I took too long, Prince Tommen asked for milk for his kittens and oh! Sir, I mean milord, would you like something for -?" The young man startled at seeing a woman in Lord Arryn's solar, he hadn't expected anyone to visit.

"You're dismissed, Gareth."

Gareth frowned, opening his mouth to protest but there's something in Lord Arryn's eyes that speak of something greater. Gareth nods, leaving the tray on desk and leaves without looking at the strange woman. Korrin bolted the door after he left and waited a while before she spoke.

"You suspected Cersei Lannister of being unfaithful and of giving birth to at least two bastards. Both Joffrey and Myrcella have solely Lannister looks but Tommen has the King's eyes. The book you suggested, the one by Maester Malleon was useful. After observing the people for so long, I can tell you not all children are exact copies of their fathers. Some traits might dominate but it is not always true. But it is rather strange for fair hair to be so strong when there is a dark haired parent.

"I tracked down some of Robert's bastards to confirm my theory, but you do realize what a hard challenge that was don't you? Over a third of the women in the kingdom claim to have lain with Robert, of thoses half claim to have his child. Some of the children didn't fully match the requirements of black of hair and blue of eye, some looked like their mother but just looking at them could confirm they were Robert's. And the benefit of the mother's knowing of Robert's birthmark cemented it. I would offer to bring them here for you to personally confirm it but after confirming Cersei ordered the deaths of two of Robert's bastards at the Rock, I am rather wary." Korrin said with a grimace. She placed the wine goblet at her feet, out of sight while she dealt with business. She had to call in a lot of favors to get people to find the bastards with no questions asked of what she was doing and for the information not to pass further than them. Lord Arryn looked at her with a weary expression. That last statement alone seemed to age him.

Jon couldn't believe what he was hearing. He heard rumors but that's what they always were rumors, they rarely held any truth to it. To hear it was true was appalling; he pressed for further details, paling as he learned of the watery deaths that the twins had suffered. Korrin asked if he wanted her to continue and he nodded, taking the cold bun from his dinner tray to try an settle his nauseous stomach.

"My father and I have confirmed at least twelve, you already know three. Those being Mya Stone in the Eyrie, Edric Storm in the Stormlands and Bella Rivers in the Riverlands. There are five more here in the landing as well as a whore claiming to be pregnant with another of Robert's bastards. It's impossible to meet her, she's one of Chataya's whores, Chataya is protective of her women. But Thresh paid his way in and using unusual means to get her specifically. She claims to be Robert's favorite at Chataya's establishment, always summoned to the castle and leaving with some favor that the king had given her. We won't actually know if it is Robert's until the birth." Korrin poked at the cooled meat before deciding to take it, she was hungry. Between bites she continued, "Before I took over for Father in Lannisport, I watched the oldest known boy. He's an apprentice for a blacksmith by the name Tobho Mott, and by the seven does he look like his father. I only saw the king twice before he got fat and the boy could be an exact copy for him. Though he seems more like his dour uncle than he is like his father, so perhaps his fair haired mother had a good head on her shoulders. Very different from Robert's usual taste." 

Jon smiled weakly her her poor joke, he dropped the roll back onto the tray, folding his hands together and leaning close to ask.

"And of her infidelity?"

"Violet Hearthstone was Joanna Lannister's former maid. She works in a spa now. Viola admitted that she had found the twins rutting like animals, they were still young so they simply had them separated. The maid was let go not long after the incident but from contact with her friends still working in the Rock she believes that it only progressed after Joanna's death. Lady Joanna never told Lord Tywin so nothing was ever done after that."

"That's not a confirmation." Jon grumbled rather annoyed. He thought it would be better.

"You only need eyes to see how obvious they are. Even the common folk see it, Ser Jaime is often referred to Kingslayer by the common folk as well as Sister-Fucker if they're drunk enough. Their touches go on too long, their stares linger, too many maids being dismissed abruptly or just disappearing, the fondness that is far too intimate to be that of siblings. The only reason you didn't see it sooner was because of Varys and Littlefinger intentionally covering it up. It's for their best interest to keep it quiet."

Jon wanted to question why she didn't keep it quiet but knew if he started questioning her loyalty, she would close up and that would not help him achieve his own means. He already bruised her ego years ago by dismissing her over his wife's complaints, it seems she is still rather sore about it.

"What can I do with this? Even if Robert believes me, I can't let this decision rest in Robert's hands. I need proof to show to the council. While I do want for Robert's true children to be his heirs, I don't want a repetition of what happened to Elia Martell and her children. I can't forgive him again."

Korrin stiffened, she stared at her Lord with horror. She actually rose from her seat and took steps back. She knocked down the cup in the process, the Arbor Gold spilling onto the Myrish rug.

"You - you forgave him for killing innocent children?!" She stuttered, her mouth open and trembling. She may have done many wicked things in her life after leaving his service but she never harmed a child. She couldn't understand that. "I could forgive many thing but harming a child, a child beloved by their mother. That is unforgivable, how do you claim to have honor after condoning that? Those children died for their father's actions, actions they had no part of and their mother was brutally raped and killed with the gore still clinging to the killer. And you did nothing! I always assumed you had been powerless to do anything, because the Lord I served understood mercy and honor. Yet here I am learning you didn't even condemn those actions, instead you reward them and let a murderer run free.

"I can't continue this." She said through clenched teeth, her breaths came out in heavy pants. "I'll be back in the morning to finish reporting my findings and await my next assignment from you. Let us hope I've calmed by then."

-

She hadn't cooled down by the time she returned. But she was a professional...if one could really be a professional in a profession like espionage. The rest of her was quick and to the point, there was not much she could give without bringing the bastards into the Red Keep. That was something she was vehemently against, at least until Jon had the Lannisters and their supporters out of the Keep. She refused to let any of them die just to prove a point.

The next assignment he gave her was following Cersei. A hard feat since most of Cersei's handmaidens were all Lannister supporters, politically a stupid move but Korrin never claimed Cersei was a strong political player. Cersei could call herself Tywin Lannister with teats all she wanted, but the woman was stupid in not to keeping girls from other houses in her company at the very least for information. Some of these women would reveal whatever they had to to get a better standing.

So Korrin played servant again, more times than she could count she found the Lannisters twins together but never in any incriminating act. She saw Cersei talking to Pycelle twice and always leaving angry. She say how loving she was to her oldest son and only daughter but little Tommen was kept occupied by sweets and treated more like a pet than a son. Her weekly reports to Lord Arryn became repetitive until one day Lord Arryn fell sick and Lysa was already packing to leave. 

Lysa did not seem the slightest bit bothered by her husband's sudden illness and seemed to be trying to leave as quickly as she could. Only the King's command to stay forced her to. She had just left for bed when Korrin came. Korrin visited late that night, escorting Maester Coleman herself. Grand Maester Pycelle was in the room with Lord Arryn.

"Maester Coleman, I have everything under control. There is no need for you to be here as well." Pycelle said, trying to save off the man. Maester Coleman hesitated so Korrin took that moment to speak.

With a low curtsey, she murmured, "Lady Arryn wishes for her Lord Husband to be under Maester Coleman's care after all he was his maester for years. Who else knows Lord Arryn better than he?"

A flash of anger crossed over Pycelle's face before he left. Maester Coleman looked at Korrin confusion evident on his face.

"But Lady Arryn has never sent for me, why did you lie?"

"Because I don't trust a man whose loyalty is to a single house rather than the realm as is in his oath." Korrin replied coldly, dropping the demure act. Her gaze was focused on the feverish lord while the Maester began checking Jon, she wet a cloth and dabbed Jon's forehead. "Milord, Maester Coleman is here. He needs to know what you ate and drank today. We may need to check your bile if you aren't sure."

Jon gripped her hand tightly, suddenly before croaking, "Arbor Gold."

Korrin stiffened, she looked back at Maester Coleman who didn't seem to have heard what Lord Arryn said, for he continued through the usual checks. She was sure she dumped the wine the same night she arrived how could he have it? Did Lysa replace it? Or had someone simply managed to slip it some other way?

While Maester forced Jon to purge his dinner from his body to he could examine it for any oddities, Korrin slipped out of Lord Arryn's grip and grabbed the silver chalice from her pack as the wine from the desk.

"Now is not a time for a drink!" Maester Coleman chastised her. She shoots her head, ignoring him for the most part. She kept her gaze eyes the silver. Her frown deepened as she saw the silver begin to tarnish. Hm, it actually worked, she had her doubts but now she saw it was true.

"Look, Maester Coleman." She spoke, handing the chalice to him. The maester look at her with a confused glance.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"In Essos, they use silver to detect poisons, if it tarnishes there is poison. See? The silver is tarnished, he has been poisoned. Now fix him!" She barked, determination blazing in her eyes. She turned to Lord Arryn said whispered in his ear. "Either your wife knowingly poisoned you or she is Littlefinger's pawn, whichever it is the goal was to have you dead. I will ask you now, you didn't share details of our meeting with anyone did you?"

Jon shook his head weakly, before speaking with a raspy voice. He was growing dizzy and tired as his fever climbed. "Letter on the...desk. Take it and Robin to-" He coughed, blood coloring his saliva. Korrin turned to the maester worried, he had removed Jon's shirt and laid leeches on his body. She turned back cleaning the blood off Lord Arryn's mouth. Jon continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Take Robin to Ned, away from Lysa...we'll follow after...I recover."

Korrin pulled away from the lord, she saw the letter on the desk, his personal house seal on it as well as that of the Hand. She tucked it into her bag, and excused herself quickly. Maester Coleman stared after her, he had heard the last part of Lord Arryn's speech. 

"Are you sure you are making the right choice, milord?"

\- 

Taking Sweetrobin from his mother was a horrible experience. While she snuck in pretty easily, even slipping milk of the poppy into Lysa's mouth had been easy, getting the boy off his mother's test without wakening him was impossible. The boy began wailing but Korrin quickly covered his mouth with her hand. Lysa shifted next to them but didn't wake. He tried kicking her, even managed to land a blow to her stomach. Korrin was quickly reconsidering her harm no children rule, Sweetrobin would be well worth the exception.

"Stay quiet or your mother will never wake up again. That means no more milk." Korrin hissed. The boy glared at her through watery eyes, he seemed more angered by the thought of never having breast milk than losing his mother. Quick as a snake she removed her hand, slipping a small vial of poppy milk into his mouth. The boy tried to hit her again but his limbs grew sluggish as the medicine slowed his body.

Korrin wrapped Sweetrobin in a cloak, she paused there was a letter on the desk but it looked like it was written in gibberish. She glanced back at the sleeping woman before deciding to take it with her. She had to be quick, this late at night there wouldn't be any ships leaving but at the very least she could buy passage for the two of them. With every step she took, she could feel pain from the sharp kicks Sweetrobin managed to land on her.

The air stung her cheek as she hurried through the keep as fast as she could without drawing much attention to her. She slowed as she passed the guards, giving them a sheepish smile and nodding at the covered Sweetrobin. The men shook their heads amused before letting them pass, never once thinking of who they let pass. She hurried to Ana's house, her sweet paranoid sister was always prepared for travelling to different areas. Korrin took the bags prepared for Northern travel as well as some provisions before leaving money on the table. Her sister would understand her abrupt departure.

Now hours later as day was breaking and the ship was leaving for White Harbor, Sweetrobin stirred, his hands searching for someone that wasn't there. She should feel guilty or remorseful but staring at the whimpering boy left her empty. He would need to adapt for their journey would be a few weeks, even a month depending on the weather and there was no milk here for him. Korrin groan as she realized what a terrible burden she under took.


End file.
